i apologize for my divinity (it is never enough)
by The People Speak
Summary: "I'm sorry," Sothis says again. "I'm sorry that we were not enough." - or, a modified retelling of excerpts from Three Houses with spoilers for Blue Lions and Golden Deer routes. - COMPLETE
1. i - white clouds

_i - white clouds_

* * *

/ _great tree moon_ /

The first time, Byleth is curious about the underlying darkness she sees in Dimitri, Crown Prince of the Kingdom.

When Rhea asks her, she chooses the Blue Lions with very little hesitation. Edelgard is visibly disappointed in the news and Byleth can see it in her sharp eyes. Claude, on the other hand, is much harder to read as he shrugs, smirks, and promises to make her regret the decision. Dimitri smiles in that polite, reserved way of his and a lifetime of being with Jeralt and the mercenaries allows her to observe that the smile doesn't reach his eyes.

The Blue Lions are a wonderfully chaotic group, but they believe in honour. Sylvain's respect is the easiest to win, she thinks, but the red-headed noble has a sly smirk and a playful twinkle in his eyes that makes her doubt, if only for a moment. Ingrid's is won over a rich, meaty stew for lunch that Byleth compliments, but still slips her student the larger portion.

She's not sure Felix has ever respected anyone, but she disarms him when they spar and there's a begrudging look in his eye when he accepts defeat. Annette and Mercedes are happy and light and Byleth goes to choir with them once and Annette is all smiles and Mercedes is all gentle praise. Ashe is tougher, but she slips him a sweet treat after a trip to market along with some bowstring wax and he beams for several hours afterward.

Dedue is the hardest of the Blue Lions because he cares so little for his own safety and so much for Dimitri's. She manages to spend just enough time in the garden with him to draw out a rare smile and a small discussion of Duscur and how much he misses home. He cautions her about Dimitri and the fact that His Highness is possible the most important figure at the academy in the current time.

Byleth knows he's correct. The whirling political landscape of Fódlan does not leave space for Dimitri or Edelgard or Claude to fumble. The three of them will have to be perfect and incredible to keep peace on the continent. Still, Dimitri is kind and when she finds herself alone with him in the Blue Lions classroom, she feels at peace. Their strategic plans are often very similar even if Dimitri prefers to rely on Sylvain, Ingrid, Felix and their penchant for brute force and Byleth likes to call on Annette and Mercedes and Ashe to rain fire and arrows from further away.

* * *

/ _harpstring moon_ /

Felix calls him the Boar Prince, referring to savagery in the wake of the tragedy of Duscur. If Byleth wasn't Byleth–and Sothis wasn't bringing it up constantly in her head–she might not have seen the prince's lingering darkness, but she does. Most people don't seem to see it and Byleth knows that if Ingrid, Sylvain, or Dedue see it, they don't mention it. But, Dimitri's facade isn't perfect.

When they spar and her sword cuts into his lance, Dimitri growls in frustration and strikes out at her with more strength than she's expecting. Sothis screams for her to move and Byleth barely rolls out of the way of the blow before counterattacking. She disarms him neatly in three moves after that. Jeralt has taught her that anger is weakness and frustration is diluted anger and it is Dimitri's weakness.

His lance hits the ground and Dimitri sighs. The frustration seeps out of him and Byleth's grip of her sword loosens. Just because she can glimpse the darkness Felix goads, doesn't mean it's always there.

* * *

/ _garland moon_ /

They take out Lonato's rebellion with little trouble. Dedue spends a little extra time under Mercedes's watchful eye, but for the most part, they all come out alright. At least, this is what Byleth assumes on the march back to the monastery.

Byleth trains late one night and doesn't leave the Training Hall till early morning. The monastery is dark and quiet, but as she makes her way back to her quarters, she catches sight of a bobbing light nearby. She considers leaving it, but with the rumours of a plot against Rhea still swirling, she adjusts her grip on her steel sword and follows it.

She sees the Officer's Academy uniform when she follows the student onto the bridge between the main monastery and the Cathedral. Her tension sifts away, but now she's curious so she keeps following. She follows the candle all the way into the main building of the cathedral where finally she catches up to Ashe.

He sits on the floor in front of the goddess's statue, the candle on the floor in front of him, and stares up at the statue. Ashe's childlike face is pained and sad. Byleth feels a tug in her chest as she steps towards him that she's not familiar with.

"_Sympathy_," Sothis whispers inside her mind. "_Sympathy and grief_."

Ashe had just lost his father. Adopted father, but still his father. Byleth recalls Ashe's timid confession to his past life as a thief and how Lonato saved him and his siblings. Byleth's walk towards him falters. She didn't know how to relate to him. Her father was alive, well, and a strong member of the Knights of Seiros.

Her foot must skid on the marble floor just enough to draw Ashe's attention and he turns toward her, looking skittish. Byleth exhales slowly and walks forward until she's standing next to Ashe. She lowers herself to the ground and bows her head, giving her student the privacy to mourn he'd needed while also supplying the company that he desperately needed.

Ashe says nothing, but the next day there is a beautifully crafted cupcake on her desk when she arrives in class.

* * *

/ _blue sea moon_ /

The Sword of the Creator hums in her hand and some part of Byleth screams for her to drop it. She adjusts her grip on it and cracks it across the Western Church members and the blade sings as it cuts down her foes.

Later, back in the Blue Lion classroom, her students are abuzz with energy as they describe how she was glowing with the light of the sword and the light of her crest as she fought, like some force of nature. Sylvain looks uncomfortable through the discussion of the crest and Ashe is still uncomfortable with the Western Church.

Byleth herself still wants to drop the Sword of the Creator and run as far as she can away.

Jeralt shows up at her door that night, a scowl etched into his features. He glances at the sword–lying flat across her desk–and looks at her. Byleth knows she's hard to read, even for Jeralt, but he's her father so she gets the sense he knows at least a little of what she's feeling.

Byleth knows her father to be a mostly stoic man who's not big on affection, but his arms curl around her for a long moment as he just holds her. He expects no conversation, just her presence, and her arms slowly come up to hold him as well.

* * *

/ _verdant rain moon_ /

Byleth is organizing her notes for the next week's lectures when Felix and Ingrid find her. The Kingdom nobles both look deeply troubled and Byleth instantly closes her book to focus her full attention on her students.

"Professor," Ingrid begins carefully. She glances at Felix, but he doesn't say anything. Ingrid sighs and straightens her shoulders. "We wanted to tell you that Sylvain probably won't be in class tomorrow."

"Or the rest of the week," Felix finally adds.

Byleth doesn't need a reason from her students. She had seen the pain on Sylvain's face when his brother had transformed. The hurt that had roiled in him as Miklan had spat and cursed his brother and all that he stood for. The Lance of Ruin had destroyed Miklan's humanity and turned him into a cursed beast and Sylvain had watched him lose his mind before taking the Lance to wield for his own.

Byleth can still visualize the agony in Sylvain's expression as he had struck down Miklan, landing the final blow to protect Ingrid who had been about to be torn apart. Byleth had been seconds away from tugging at Sothis's power, the Divine Pulse, to save Ingrid when Sylvain had leapt from his horse to strike down his brother.

The Gautier heir had dropped his lance as if it had burned him as he watched the darkness seep away from Miklan, leaving the dead body of his elder brother behind. Byleth didn't blame him. She still felt like she wanted to drop the Sword of the Creator every time it burned warmly in her grip.

"I understand," she says quietly to Ingrid and Felix.

She sees loss in them too. Not Miklan's loss, but she knows it is there. Glenn's death lingers like a shadow over the pair and over Dimitri as well. Dimitri shoulders the burden of the Tragedy of Duscur and lets it haunt him, but Byleth acknowledges that the others of the Kingdom bear its scars as well.

* * *

/ _horsebow moon_ /

Seteth was inconsolable when Flayn was missing. Rhea was the picture of indifference in the matter, her face set into practiced neutrality that had Sothis mouthing off inside of Byleth's head. Byleth can barely process Sothis's rants and Rhea's debrief because her ears are still ringing from the encounter with the Death Knight.

The wound he left on her side still aches, but she had shaken off Mercedes and Marianne's offers to have a look at it because she needed to speak with Rhea and Seteth. The fact that it is still pulsing with pain is confusing, but she chalks it up to the adrenaline. Finally, gloriously, Rhea dismisses her to get some rest, holding Seteth back so that the two may speak.

Byleth walks out of the audience hall without stumbling, but the pain in her side flares sharply as she starts to descend back to the first floor. She trips on the stairs and barely catches herself. Her vision swirls and her feet feel like lead. It feels like someone is pouring acid along her side and she bites her tongue to keep from crying out.

Somehow, she makes it down to the first floor without falling again, but the pain is staggering now. Byleth gasps for air and feels her chest contract uselessly as she tries to draw in air. Her hand skids along the stonework of the wall as she tries to keep herself upright.

"_You need help_," Sothis hisses inside her head. "_You cannot die here_."

Byleth hears voices nearby, probably just inside the entrance hall, and she blindly stumbles in that direction. Blood pounds in her ears and her legs finally give out. She clatters to the floor noisily and her palms barely catch herself so she doesn't crack her head on the ground. There's a loud clang as the Sword of the Creator at her hip collides with the stone.

She breathes slowly and deeply, trying to stay in the moment as Jeralt has taught her. It is easiest to help an injured man if he is awake enough to tell you how he was injured. There's a horrible moment of nothing where Byleth thinks no one will see her, but then there's a shout from a monk and a stampede of footsteps.

Someone rolls her onto her back slowly and Byleth is staring up into Dimitri's horrified expression. His blue eyes are wide, his hair hangs tauntingly in front of his face, and his brows furrow as he tries to see what is wrong with her. There's a panic in his expression that causes something deep inside Byleth to ache. It's a familiarity with losing people and she wants to take it away from him and tell him she'll be fine.

There's another pulse of pain from the wound in her side and she gasps, feeling her sore muscles protest as her back arches.

"Professor, what's," Dimitri trails off, lost as his hands hover awkwardly around her.

"Dimitri, move." Another voice cuts in firmly and without room for argument. Byleth's head lolls slightly to the side and she sees Claude kneeling next to Dimitri.

The Alliance heir reaches for her, going straight to the wound on her side. He holds a hand out above him for a second. Byleth follows the line of his arm with her eyes weakly and sees Edelgard standing just behind both boys. She fumbles for a moment before placing a dagger in Claude's hand. Dimitri tenses upon seeing it, but Claude ignores him and cuts away Byleth's coat and shirt to expose the wound.

Dimitri and Edelgard both recoil at the sight of the wound, but Claude steels himself. His fingers graze along the visible blackened veins in Byleth's side. Veins that shouldn't be black but are crackling with poison and venom. Claude's fingers tremble as he reaches for a pouch at his waist. He pulls out a small vial of clear liquid and uncorks it. He presses the glass to Byleth's lips and she forces herself to crack them open.

"This is a general neutralizer," Claude murmured. "You need to drink this, Teach, because I don't know what's killing you. Your Royal Highnesses, I would highly recommend one of you go find me Mercedes, Lindhardt, Marianne, or Manuela as quickly as possible. This stops the poison from spreading, but I need their White Magic to heal it."

Dimitri doesn't move at first, his eyes locked on Byleth's, but when Edelgard doesn't shift, Dimitri squeezes Byleth's hand tightly before rising and stumbling off. Claude's eyes stay fixed on the poisoned wound on her side, but Byleth is surprised that when she tilts her head back slightly to get a glimpse of Edelgard, there is a cold fear and uncertainty in the Imperial Princess's expression. Edelgard, who is normally the picture of calm and indifference, looks paralyzed with fear.

Byleth inhales and exhales. Her breathing doesn't hurt anymore. That is probably a good sign. The tension in Claude's shoulders has loosened and Byleth knows that whatever Claude had given her had effectively saved her life.

Jeralt finds her before Dimitri returns and he kneels quickly and pulls Byleth up so that she's resting against her father. His body is warm behind her as he questions Claude and Edelgard what happened. Byleth's eyes close slowly in her weariness and the conversation fades to a mumble.

There are more footsteps in the background and a tingle of warmth against her side and Byleth exhales slowly. Marianne seems to have been the one Dimitri located because Byleth can barely pick out her gentle stutter before she lets her tiredness swallow her.

* * *

/ _wyvern moon_ /

Manuela and Hanneman didn't participate in the battle and it had taken every persuasive bone in her body to get anyone to allow her to fight. Dimitri had been against it, citing the mostly-healed poisoned wound from the Death Knight. Edelgard had protested it, but Byleth suspected that was more related to the fact that neither the Deer or the Eagles would have their professors accompanying them into battle.

Claude, on the other hand, had advocated for it. He had promised that any remaining poison was effectively neutralized and he pointed out that the battle was under a strict "no-killing" policy anyways. Finally, Seteth and the others had consented and Byleth was allowed back into her classroom to plan for the fight. Despite the listening ears of Claude and Edelgard, Byleth and Dimitri had managed to come up with enough of a plan to secure a victory.

White Magic monks from the monastery were healing any remaining wounds from the battle that the Blue Lions had handily won. Byleth feels a tingle of pride in her chest as she examines Gronder Field from the wooden platform in the middle. The ballista up top had caused her Lions some issues at the start since Bernadetta was more than proficient with a bow and Ingrid, her usual scout, couldn't get near the contraption due to her weakness to bows as a Pegasus Knight.

Felix and Annette had been the ones who had driven Bernadetta back, leaving a path for Ashe to claim the centre to wreak the same havoc. Sylvain and Dedue had pounded through Edelgard's defences, going straight at her magic users, while Ingrid flew above and ahead of them, clearing a path. Byleth, with Mercedes and Dimitri, had focused on taking down the Deer. As good of a strategist as Claude was, once the Lions took the hill it was over for the deer. The ballista had a better range than their archers and a practiced Thunder attack from Byleth had brought Claude to the ground where he was hopelessly outmatched by Dimitri.

Her side aches mildly, but she's too high on victory to let it bother her too much. Still, she must be favouring it a bit because as soon as he's done receiving some medical care for the arrow wound from Claude, Dimitri makes his way to her side.

"We fought well, Professor, wouldn't you agree?" he asks as he ascends to stand next to her.

Byleth nods. The hostilities from the battle have faded with the wounds and her Lions chat alongside Eagles and Deer with no hesitation. All of her students fought brilliantly, but she was beyond proud of her lions. Annette is chattering excitedly with Dorothea and Felix is hovering nearby. So close, in fact, that when she flings her hands out to describe something, she smacks him in the face. Dimitri chuckles as he follows her gaze.

Sylvain isn't far from the base of the hill, brushing his horse's coat. Leonie and Marianne are close enough that he could be flirting with them, but instead, he's focused on his horse and the conversation he's sharing with Ingrid as the Pegasus Knight grooms her own mount nearby.

Mercedes is healing the last of Dedue's burns, sustained from a defensive Hubert. Linhardt stands with them, conversing quietly and politely. Ashe and Bernadetta seem to be comparing notes on the ballista and Ignatz joins them after a moment. The trio of archers chat easily and Byleth knows there is no ill-will between any of them.

"_Your cubs are growing_," Sothis's voice croons quietly. Byleth smiles to herself.

Dimitri tips his head to look at her and Byleth takes a moment to study the Prince of Faerghus. He is taller than her and strong, but he looks weary. The ghost of pain that underlies him is agonizingly present. Not for the first time, Byleth wants to pull him close and banish his pain and his past to somewhere it will not bother him.

She can't, of course, and Dimitri never needs to know what happens in her mind in these times.

"Professor?" he asks. "Is everything alright?"

She nods. She wants to tell him that he led them to battle admirably. "We fought well," she says instead.

Dimitri smiles and the weight in her chest eases.

* * *

/ _red wolf moon_ /

As the village of Remire burns around her, Byleth frowns and turns about, assessing.

"_Who would have imagined that Tomas wasn't really Tomas?_" Sothis's voice says. The tiny spirit inside of Byleth sounds perplexed and frustrated just like she did when she couldn't remember why she desired to go to the Red Canyon.

Byleth certainly hadn't guessed and it bothers her. The fact that Tomas–_Solon_, she corrects–had been at the monastery the whole time. It doesn't sit well, especially since it is likely that Jeritza was the Death Knight as well. She wonders what other horrors the monastery holds and how long it would be until they reared their heads.

"Professor?"

Byleth turns and sees Annette and Dedue standing behind her. Annette is the one who called out to her. Dedue's polished armour is scorched in places and Annette has a cut along her cheekbone from a swordsman who got too close for her magic to counter. They both look tired and deeply uncomfortable in the ruins of Remire.

"We're getting ready to march back to the monastery," Annette explains and glances at Dedue, nervous.

The prince's vassal straightens and Byleth recognizes the discomfort in his expression. "Could you speak to His Highness, Professor? He," Dedue pauses and turns, looking across the ruined village to a silhouette standing still at the southeast entrance to the village. The statement lingers, unfinished.

Byleth nods and dismisses her students back to the rest of the group. She picks her way through rubble toward Dimitri. When she makes it to his side, he tenses a little and keeps his gaze fixed on the line of the trees nearby.

"We met here," he says lowly. "Why did it have to be these people?" he questions. "Innocent people who did not deserve to die." He shakes his head heavily.

"We'll find him," Byleth promises in lieu of an explanation.

She knows Dimitri well enough by now to know that he is fluent in the language of revenge and retribution. The Tragedy of Duscur hangs over him so precariously and entirely that she is shocked he is not consumed by it. Felix's biting comments about Dimitri's savagery cut her and she can only hope to guide him to a better place.

She touches his arm and turns away to head back to the others. It takes a moment, but she hears his heavy footsteps following her.

* * *

/ _ethereal moon_ /

"_Save him!_" Sothis cries out in her mind.

Byleth lets Sothis's power well up and she forces time to reverse. Jeralt rises from the ground, Monica backs up, and her Blue Lions get three steps further away. For the first time, Byleth can remember a clenching pain in her chest–_her heart_–and a coldness that grips her entire body.

Her body hums as she reaches for the Sword of the Creator and cracks it toward Monica. _SAVEJERALTSAVEJERALTSAVEJERALT_–her heart screams. Her blade whistles forward and– it crashes against a magic shield.

The mysterious figure takes Monica and disappears and Byleth is left in the field with the falling body of her father. Her body is screaming and the sword burns in her hand. She discards it and rushes to her father's side, rolling him onto his back in his lap. It feels like when he held her after she had been poisoned.

Her chest is dead tight as he speaks to her, tells her that he loves her and that this is the first time he has ever seen her cry. Her eyes are burning and her cheeks are wet and it's raining. The pull in her chest intensifies to a piercing, consistent stab and Byleth curls over her father's cooling body and screams.

The Lions come running, their faces slack with horror and disbelief as Byleth screams at the sky. She curses everything for taking her father from her and for letting her feel _now of all times_. She rocks Jeralt's body slowly, shaking and trembling as she tries to hold him as close as she can.

_Sothis, please let me save him_, she begs in her mind.

"_Byleth,_" Sothis's voice is pained and tight. "_We tried. We turned back time and he still fell. Perhaps this is fate._"

_I cannot accept that_, she thinks desperately. _I'll bring him back without you then_.

Byleth summons every shred of divine power she carries and tries to force time to go backwards, but all she manages is a stall in time where her students appear to be running towards her in slow motion. Pain explodes in her temples and her students return to normal speed.

"_I'm sorry_," Sothis's gentle voice says. "_I know what he meant to you, you know._"

The pain in her temples increases as she cries out, fisting her fingers in the thick leather of her father's armour. Her vision whites out for a moment and it takes a long second before it comes back to her.

When she opens her eyes again, there are warm arms around her and a deeply-breathing chest pressed against hers. She gets an eye-full of bloodied and torn blue cloak as Dimitri curls himself around her and she clings to him. This embrace is so different than the innocent hug they had shared just a day ago in the goddess tower, but it cuts her to the core.

She lets her nails claw at Dimitri's cloak as she holds him. She can feel that Jeralt is still half-draped over her lap. Dimitri has thrown himself into the mud beside her to hold her. After a moment, a slender set of arms winds half around Dimitri and half around Byleth as Mercedes adds herself to the hug.

Annette follows quickly, pulling Ashe by the hand as the two smallest members of the Blue Lions add themselves to what is turning into a mass of bodies. Sylvain kneels behind Byleth and rests his forehead against her shoulder. Ingrid presses her cheek against Dimitri's arm where it brushes Byleth. Felix kneels in the mud on Byleth's other side and just presses a warm hand to her thigh. Byleth doesn't feel Dedue touch her, but she sees him take Dimitri's other side and rest a large palm against the Prince's upper back, just under where Byleth's fingers have dug into the blue cloak.

For a long, terrible minute the Blue Lions sit in a field, covered in mud and blood and getting soaked by the rain. No words are said because there are none to be uttered as Jeralt's blood seeps out into the mud below them.

"_I'm sorry_," Sothis says again. "_I'm sorry that we were not enough_."

* * *

/ _guardian moon_ /

Sothis's scolding rolls over Byleth mindlessly as Byleth spins and observes the echoing, absolute, crushing darkness around the pair. The Sword of the Creator is still in her hand, but it will do her no good here.

After all, only a god can escape this place.

The demi-plane is what is finally takes for both Sothis and Byleth to conclude that whatever Rhea did, allowed Sothis, the goddess, to be reborn inside of Byleth. This created an un-feeling, un-crying child.

Byleth remembers her father's men calling her the Ashen Demon–unfeeling, unyielding, and merciless. They often asked what kind of mortal could feel no emotion. Byleth thinks on this as Sothis affirms that she is more than mortal. Some part of her has known this, Byleth realizes. When she pitied Ashe and empathized with Sylvain and defended Ingrid and desired to protect Dimitri so strongly.

And when she cried for Jeralt's loss.

Sothis's apology hands unanswered in the darkness, but that is expected. When the young goddess touches her, it burns. The burn is familiar to that of the Sword of the Creator, but it feels purer and cleansing. The tingling sensation that accompanies her Divine Pulses overtakes her and Byleth screams out.

Gold consumes the darkness around her and when she opens her eyes, the Sword of the Creator is singing in her grip and glowing and blazing. She swings down and reality bends to her new strength.

She emerges back onto the battlefield to the complete shock of the Blue Lions, glowing with power and energy. Later, Ashe will tell her that she looked like an avenging angel emerging from darkness to smite the evil in the world.

Byleth is unstoppable in that battle. The merging with Sothis has let the blood in her veins sing out with power as she cuts down enemy after enemy. Her Lions fight valiantly at her side, but Solon is hers to defeat.

The Sublime Creator Sword–the sword in its truest form–hums in her palm as she whips it out, lashing over and over against the mage who killed Kronya, the one responsible for her father's death. The scream she lets out as she strikes sends fear into the heart of the remaining soldiers enough that all battle freezes to watch her strike Solon down.

After, she stands, trembling with power and emotion as Dimitri rushes to her side. He asks what happens and she tells him, plainly, and though he seems unsure, her conviction sells him on the point. He points out that she has changed and she uses the mostly unused silver sword at her hip to check her reflection and sees the truth in his words. She looks almost like Rhea now except for the divine light that seems to be glowing in her veins.

The light fades as she talks to Dimitri and it seems to take her strength with it. Finally, her mortal exhaustion pulls her into darkness and she buckles to the ground, Dimitri's startled cry the last thing she hears.

* * *

/ _pegasus moon_ /

Dimitri breaks Edelgard's mask underfoot and charges at her with a reckless abandon she has not seen in him before. Felix's taunts and warnings stab at her memories sharply as she watches him cut down Edelgard's soldiers without mercy.

Edelgard's expression, cool and stern, hurts too. This is not the girl that Byleth met nearly a year ago at Remire village. This is a woman growing into her hatred of an institution and anyone who stands in the way of her ambition. This is not the student who's axe grip Byleth spent hours correcting so that Edelgard could throw and hit the target dead centre without hardly a glance in its direction.

Hubert is at Edelgard's side and then the two are gone in twin bursts of red light. Dimitri is breathing heavily and Byleth's chest is aching. The Holy Tomb doesn't feel big enough for the monsters they have just unleashed and with a horribly practiced ease, Dimitri schools his features back to the polished, personable prince they know.

The other Blue Lions cast him wary glances, but they follow the summons of Rhea with little argument. Felix gives Byleth a significant look and she breaks eye contact quickly. Dimitri is not lost yet and she refuses to relinquish the hope that she can protect him.

Dimitri is quiet in most of the following proceedings, contributing here and there, but the conviction in his words when he addresses the Lions later scared Byleth. He says it with such surgical precision that it cuts across the hope that had been rallying in the Blue Lions, shocking the Empire citizens into silence.

Byleth doesn't want to listen to their speculation after Dimitri takes his leave, so she hurries out soon after. Ingrid's defensive words clash with Felix's biting ones and Byleth wishes she had heard none of it.

She gets most of the way back to her quarters when the Golden Deer find her. Claude and Hilda are leading the charge and the group of nobles and commoners–her students–stare at her, expecting answers. Apparently, Hanneman, Manuela, Seteth, and Rhea had provided them with such little information all they knew was that the Church was preparing to go to war with the Empire.

Claude's green eyes are sharp as he tracks them across her face, trying to read her. After Ignatz finishes describing what the Deer know, Claude speaks up.

"Did he break?" he asks quietly.

He says it with such a certainty that Byleth knows he doesn't need the conformation in words. He reads her expression well enough and he casts his eyes to the sky, scowling suddenly.

"Goddess damn you, Edelgard," Claude basically spits.

The Deer recoil at the sharp tone of their leader's voice and Byleth quickly steals away, leaving them further in the dark.

* * *

/ _lone moon_ /

Rhea is a dragon. Claude and Dimitri are fighting back-to-back. Her Blue Lions, the Golden Deer, and the broken remains of the Black Eagles sweep through Edelgard's forces with a practiced strategy Byleth remembers outlining in a rainy Wednesday lecture.

The Empire keeps coming.

Rhea goes down under a swarm of demonic beasts. Byleth charges forward, Sothis's divine power surging through her veins. The Sublime Creator Sword whips out with a deafening crack and shatters the mask of a beast. Rhea throws it off, roars, and tears the other two in half easily.

Hope springs in Byleth's heart as she hears the dragon roar and her armies roar in response.

But, then,

_Thales_.

The magic sends her flying back to the gorge and she skids to a stop, pained and angry, right at the edge of a cliff. There's an ominous, terrible creaking beneath her. Rhea's dragon form screams out and then she hears the cries of her Lions as they turn from their own battles just in time to watch the cliff give out beneath her feet.

The fall tears the air out of Byleth's lungs and there is _PAIN_ and then–

_darkness._

* * *

_So, here's my retelling of a few events and missing scenes in White Clouds Blue Lions route. I have plans for Azure Moon and beyond, so stayed tuned when I actually have time to keep writing. I'm working through Golden Deer on NG+ so we'll see how that goes too. _

_As always, I'm on tumblr ( nicolewrites)!_

_\- Nicole_


	2. ii - azure moon

ii - azure moon

* * *

/ _ethereal moon_ /

The stones of the goddess tower were cool to the touch. Byleth ran her hands along them as she slowly ascended the stairs to the top. Her mind was still buzzing and the sword at her hip was humming.

_Five years_. Five years.

It didn't feel real.

She climbed the stairs to the top and was almost afraid of what she would find. Since her arrival, Byleth had only seen Garreg Mach in complete disarray. She had dispatched a few bandits that wandered into her path easily. Having a sword in her hand is the only thing that feels familiar. Everything else feels like it's muffled under a layer of cotton.

She sees the faces of her Lions, still children, in her memory as she climbs and she prays desperately to the entity that had resided within her that they all still live. As she nears the top she has to step around a group of bandit bodies. She pauses to press her hand against one of the bandits and recoils when she realizes that they are still soft and a little warm–recently dead, she realizes.

Byleth doubles her pace to the top and looks around the top of the goddess tower. It takes a moment for her to see him because he's shrouded in black and shadows against the far wall. A silvered lance rests against the stonework above his head and his hands grip it so tightly that Byleth can see the white strain of his knuckles from across the room.

His head tilts up slowly as he hears her and the air in her lungs disappears. His hair is long and tangled. There's blood on his face. His shoulders are broader and more hunched than she remembers him from five years before. And his eye–_goddess help him_–his eye is gone.

The sunlight warms her as she crosses towards him, extending her hand in a calm, supportive manner. The blue of his eye is cutting as he stares at her for a moment before he turns his head sharply, refusing her hand.

When he speaks, his voice is lower and rougher. It reminds her of the Dimitri who cracked in the Holy Mausoleum, not the Dimitri who she shared Chamomile Tea with or the Dimitri who embraced her on the battlefield after her father fell.

His words echo across the goddess tower and she steps back, startled.

_Ghost_–the accusation hangs unspoken between them for a long moment.

Byleth's chest aches and she wants to hit him. She wishes that striking him would bring him back to the Dimitri she knew, not the one Felix taunted and warned her about. But, there is a hollowness in her chest where Sothis once resided that reminds her she's not entirely mortal.

The accusation hurts more than she cares to admit.

* * *

_Alive, alive, alive!_ Her heart sings as her Lions appear on the battlefield.

The thieves are routed thoroughly and the Blue Lions come together in the ruins afterward to catch up. Byleth is struck by how differently they all look–battle-hardened and grown. It is almost hard to relate to the children they were at the academy with the warriors they have become.

Ashe is taller. His hair is longer, but it's the same silvery-blonde she remembers. His eyes are still a sharp, light green, but there's a new scar on his chin. His hands twitch on a silver bow that looks hand-strung, but well-cared for.

Annette is dressed in the robes a true Warlock and she has a black magic tome tucked under one arm. Her hair has outgrown its childish style and her features are no longer soft and childlike, but elegant and womanlike. Byleth can easily see the resemblance to her father now, but she is relieved to see Annie's smile still intact.

Mercedes has changed quite a bit. She wears the robes of a bishop and holds herself with a polish and confidence that the young Mercedes had only sparsely. Her hair is much shorter, cropped around her ears, and the easy smile Byleth remembers is smaller and more reserved now.

Sylvain looks much the same, she realizes. He wears armour decorated with House Gautier's crest, but his amber eyes still have the same playful light to them. His hair is a little longer and when he runs a hand through it, she sees the hint of a scar along his neck as it tilts. The horse that accompanies him is new and it looks younger than the warhorse he rode as a cavalier.

Ingrid stands tall, as she always did, but her silver armour catches the light and highlights her new, shorter hair. Unlike with Sylvain's horse, Byleth recognizes Ingrid's pegasus. The green ribbons in her hair match her eyes, but much of the gentleness from her youth is gone, leaving a knight who is ready for battle in its place.

Felix looks the same and different at the same time. His hair is longer and a bit messier, but he keeps it tamed like he did when he was young. The silver sword Byleth had commissioned for his birthday hangs at his hip and he still carried the iron shield he picked up after the battle in the Holy Mausoleum, though it bears a new, star-shaped burn in the surface. Byleth even spies a black magic symbol on his belt.

As she takes in her students, Gilbert questions Dimitri and Byleth's headcount comes up incomplete.

"What happened?" Byleth breathes as Dimitri answers the question before she can answer it fully.

Her chest aches for Dedue, the steadfast vassal of a prince who cared deeply about everyone and all things that lived. He is the first one to fall and Byleth's chest clenches when she thinks about it. Her eyes scan over her former students who have grown into strong capable people when she was gone.

They remembered the promise they made to come back in five years, _all of them_, and Byleth knows that she will do whatever it takes to keep them all alive. She couldn't save Jeralt when it mattered, but she _will save this family._

* * *

/ _guardian moon_ /

In the ruins of the village, still flaming from the onager's onslaught, Byleth looks for Dimitri. She had been distracted briefly, lending Mercedes and Annette her white magic to look after one of Sylvain's injuries. She hopes he hasn't disappeared entirely, but she doesn't want to babysit him.

When her father had passed–a pang goes through her chest at the thought of Jeralt–she had wanted space. The monastery had felt crowded and suffocating and she had just wanted people to leave her alone. She knows Dimitri is grieving. It's twisted and more than a little messed up, but he's trying to grieve for his parents, for Glenn, for Dedue, and for all those that had died for him. A part of Byleth wants to grieve for the Dimitri she knew, but the stubborn part of her is still clinging to the hope that he's still there somewhere under layers of darkness and pain.

She finds him standing over Randolph, arms crossed and face steeled into a look of disdain. Randolph is afraid and begging with Dimitri to let him go. It hurts to see the indifference and the anger in Dimitri's expression and she knows that he has no intention of letting an ally of Edelgard off with even a little bit of sympathy.

So she does what she needs to do and doesn't regret it, even as Dimitri turns his steely gaze on her in annoyance.

His response–_kill me, then_–is a splash of ice water in her face and she steps back, alarmed. She doesn't get the chance to reply as Ingrid's pegasus flies overhead and Felix comes jogging in their direction.

* * *

/ _pegasus moon_ /

Felix locks himself in his room on the second floor when they get back to the monastery. Byleth might have gone about assuming it was typical Felix behaviour if it weren't for Ingrid and Sylvain.

Sure, she knew Felix didn't particularly care for his father, but the icy hatred he had directed at Rodrigue in Ailell had been a bit uncharacteristic. She is sorting through some maps in the Cardinals' Room when there's a knock at the door. Byleth turns, rubbing a tired hand across her face as she does.

Sylvain's knuckles are resting against the edge of the doorframe and he looks uncharacteristically uncomfortable. Ingrid is next to him and neither of them looks like they've really cleaned up since the battle. There's still a cut on Ingrid's cheek and Sylvain's armour is scuffed around his chest plate like someone had tried to impale him.

"Hi," Byleth greets. "Is there something I can help with?"

Ingrid drops her gaze to the ground and swallows. "Professor, it's Felix."

"His father being here is messing with him, seriously, and we don't know what to do about it," Sylvain adds.

Byleth bites her lip and gestures to the chairs at the table. "Sit," she instructs.

The pair moves into the room and to Byleth's display, Sylvain is limping. She frowns at him, but he waves her off.

"Don't worry about it. Mercedes already looked at it," he replies, brushing off her concern.

Ingrid sighs. "He's being an idiot, but I can confirm that Mercedes did look at him."

Byleth lowers herself into a chair and nods slowly. "Tell me about Felix. What can I do?"

Ingrid tugs at her hair until the ribbons come loose and her braids start to unwind. She slowly, methodically starts rebraiding her hair. There's a distant look in her eyes that Byleth has seen a few too many times in her students' faces since her return to the monastery.

"Did you know, Professor," Sylvain begins, "that the three of us went looking for Dimitri a few months before we came back to the monastery."

Byleth is surprised, but she tries to keep a neutral expression. It makes sense. Dimitri, Felix, Ingrid, and Sylvain were all childhood friends. As the children of Kingdom nobles, it would make sense for them to be suspicious of the sudden and concealed execution of the prince.

"It was Felix's idea," Ingrid adds. "He called Cornelia a witch and said that someone would have stopped her if she had really tried to execute Dimitri."

Sylvain snorts. "I think his word choice was a little less adept, but yeah, that's the gist of it. We travelled all around the Kingdom and took out Empire troops where we could, but it was better to keep our heads low and just try to pretend we weren't who we were."

"Even so," Ingrid continues, "we ran into trouble a couple of times, but we managed to get ourselves out of it without much issue."

Sylvain shifts in his chair and pulls aside the collar and neckline of his armour to expose the scar she had glimpsed when she had seen him after five years. "An Empire flyer tried to take my head off," he says quietly. "Felix saved my life with the little bit of white magic that he learned from you."

"I don't know if you'll actually be able to do anything," Ingrid interrupts, looking uncomfortable at the sight of Sylvain's scar. "Felix is notoriously stubborn, but we figured if anyone had a shot to get through to him, it was you. We tried to bring him food for dinner, but he turned us away and told us to give it to someone who actually wanted to eat and to feel something."

"He's still hurting from losing his brother," Byleth says. "He told me as much. Seeing Rodrigue now, of all times, must be a painful reminder. Especially since he brought Areadbhar to Dimitri and Dimitri is," she trails off, not willing to discuss Dimitri's fragile mental state.

"Yes," Ingrid agrees. "But, maybe you can at least get him to eat something."

Byleth rubs her temples, thinking. "No, I don't think he'd be very receptive to me. He'll know you came to me, but I know who I can send."

Sylvain leans forward, tilting his head curiously. "Who?"

Byleth feels a tiny smile pull at her lips. "Annette. She's persistent and very hard to say no to."

Ingrid and Sylvain both laugh lightly and Byleth shuts her eyes for a moment. She imagines them from five years prior with a carefree Sylvain and a straight-laced Ingrid and compares that to the adults who have come to her today.

"Thank you for coming to me," she says.

She doesn't tell them how proud she is or how much she has missed them. Those kinds of sentimental words can wait for after the war when they're all still alive, after all.

* * *

/ _lone moon_ /

The battle for the Great Bridge sends her head spinning. _Dedue is alive_. But Lorenz and Ferdinand stand opposing the Kingdom, sided with the Empire. Byleth sees them and her mind spins dangerously back to the Academy and afternoons spent under the gazebo sharing tea with two of the most proper nobles.

There's a glorious madness to Ferdinand as he challenges Dimitri, but Byleth catches the unease in Lorenz's expression as he calls wave after wave of fire against his former classmates.

She doesn't have time to hesitate so she surges forward, whipping her sword out to lash at Lorenz's mount. The horse screams from the wound and throws Lorenz. He rolls as he lands, a move Byleth remembers rehearsing with him and Sylvain one Thursday afternoon. Lorenz comes up glaring at her and throws out his hand.

Agnea's Arrow whips towards Byleth but she cuts it out of the air with her blade. Lorenz looks uncertain for a moment, but he calls fire towards her and Byleth slashes it away again. She blasts white magic towards him but misses intentionally. She wants his attention and wants him to know that she has him outmatched.

Lorenz hesitates on his next attack. She takes her opening.

"Lorenz," she calls out to him. "Don't make me do this."

She doesn't need to clarify what _this_ is because Lorenz's polished exterior cracks. He looks around the battlefield and sees his troops losing. He looks just in time to see Dimitri lash against Ferdinand to send the von Aegir noble crashing to the ground. _He doesn't get up._

Lorenz closes his eyes and Byleth reads the pain and regret on his expression clearly. "I'm sorry Professor," he says.

Byleth waits for a long moment. Lorenz turns and strides back into the chaos, leaving the battle and leaving her conscious clearer than she had dared. Once he's gone, she hurries to where Ferdinand fell. Dimitri has moved on, but Ferdinand is still alive.

His armour has crumpled like paper, piercing into his chest and making the gruesome wound across his torso look even worse than it already did. He is gasping for air, trying desperately to breathe. His long red hair is sprayed with his own blood and his amber eyes are wide and uneasy. Byleth kneels beside him and touches her hand to his arm. His head turns towards her a little and he frowns.

"You," he murmurs shakily. "You were supposed to have died five years ago. This isn't how it was supposed to be."

"I'm sorry, Ferdinand," Byleth says gently. She brushes her hand up towards his hair, smoothing it out of his face.

"I am Ferdinand von Aegir and I have defended my position to the death." The amber of his eyes crackles with defiance and insanity. "Edelgard would be proud."

Byleth swallows a lump in her throat. She closes her eyes and waits until she can't hear Ferdinand's breathing anymore when she opens them. He stares blankly up at the sky and Byleth stands up shakily. The Empire and House Gloucester forces are retreating and the Kingdom and Knights of Seiros seem to be celebrating their victory.

She catches a glimpse of Annette and Ashe crowding Dedue and trying to hug their friend despite the latter's heavy Fortress Knight armour. Dimitri stands nearby, staring at Dedue like he can't believe what's happening. Mercedes is healing Gilbert and Flayn is healing Felix. Seteth and Ingrid are speaking in hushed tones nearby. Sylvain and his cavalry battalion are chasing the last of the enemies away.

Byleth hopes Lorenz is still alive. Dedue is alive. Ferdinand–her chest aches–is dead.

The day is won.

* * *

/ _great tree moon_ /

Byleth turns, throwing an arc of lightning that drives back a trio of Imperial flyers. Dimitri roars and charges past her, driving his lance into the flank of a pegasus that had not been fortunate enough to remain in the air after the magic attack.

Byleth flinches at the noise the mount makes and the sound the rider makes as Dimitri slashes brutally with Areadbhar. She follows Dimitri closely as he cuts through enemies, watching his back determinedly. The sight of Edelgard had driven him into a frenzy Byleth hasn't seen since their first clash at Garreg Mach against the bandits. He's being reckless and she refuses to let him fall here.

She can hear her other Blue Lions shouting and attacking across the field so she knows that Gronder is not lost to them yet. She just has to keep them all alive for a little bit longer. Dimitri is cutting a path through anyone who stands in his way, heading straight for the crest of the hill where Edelgard is waiting.

Byleth has been trying to avoid the Alliance forces as much as possible by pressing against Edelgard's front line and staying to the right side of the field as much as she dares. Unfortunately, the Alliance shows no regard for her tactic as they have been pressuring the Kingdom's left flank quite heavily. It almost feels like whatever strategy the Alliance is running has been specially tailored to counter what Byleth had planned. The annoyance she feels is familiar, but she doesn't have time to dwell on it.

She hears the beat of wings before she sees him, but there's a sharp whistle past her ear as a yellow-feather arrow flies by and _sinks into Dimitri's throat._

Byleth is screaming and calling upon the Divine Pulse before she has really processed what is happening, but she knows those arrows, knows that silent draw, and she knows the man who is an assassin from above.

As the divine light fades, Dimitri is standing, mostly unharmed, and he resumes cutting a path towards Edelgard. Byleth's heart pounds in her ears as she spins, looking up. There's chaos in the sky from the assortment of flying units clashing from the three different sides, but she knows what she's looking for and she sees him easily enough.

Claude is ten feet above her and five feet behind her. His arrow is knocked and he takes aim at Dimitri with an unreadable expression on his face. Byleth calls lightning without thinking and tries to do anything to throw off his aim.

Claude is focused on the shot because he–and Byleth–knows that against Dimitri, he will only get one shot. He doesn't see her magic coming. His wyvern, on the other hand, is all too aware of its magical weakness and it spins to dodge Byleth's lightning.

The Alliance leader isn't expecting the sudden movement and his arrow goes wide, finding purchase in the skull of an Empire soldier Dimitri had been fighting instead of in the Kingdom's prince. In addition, the quick dodge seems enough to dislodge the Alliance Leader as he slips and plummets from the saddle.

Byleth doesn't hesitate as she cracks her sword in front of her. She pushes to where Claude fell, cutting down two Alliance soldiers and an Empire cavalry unit as she presses on to reach him.

Claude isn't facing her as she approaches, knocking arrow after arrow to drive away foes that get too close. His wyvern has landed beside him, but he hasn't had a moment to get back into the saddle. The beast roars at Byleth as she approaches. She is quickly aware that the beast knows she tried to strike him down.

Claude turns to face her at his mount's cry and his bow falters, dipping towards the ground. He looks surprised for a split second before he quickly conceals it behind a strategically neutral expression. For all his scheming and tactics–the assault of the Kingdom's left flank, she realizes belatedly–Claude seems to have had no idea that she was still alive and would be fighting against the Alliance.

"Teach?" he calls out to her. His wyvern's defensiveness against her seems to have tipped him off on the origin of the lightning. "You tried to strike me out of the sky!" Claude sounds affronted and annoyed, but he doesn't take aim at her.

"I won't let you kill him," she says, ignoring the accusation.

Claude grits his teeth and grips his weapon tighter. His eyes flick over her shoulder and he raises his bow quickly to shoot down an Empire Wyvern Rider that had been heading in their direction before he returns his attention to her. "You're not going to save him, Teach," he yells over the cacophony of battle. "There's no saving him from the things he's done."

Byleth sheaths the Sublime Sword of the Creator and pulls out her silver blade. "I won't let him die," she says firmly. "Get out of here, Claude. I don't want to hurt you or anyone from the Alliance. We're here for Edelgard."

Claude looks past her to where Dimitri is cutting a reckless path through anyone that stands in his way. "You don't want to hurt us, but he will. Would you kill me if I tried to strike him down?"

Byleth doesn't respond because she knows her answer–_SAVEDIMITRI_, her mind screams–and she knows Claude won't like it.

He seems to note her lack of response before firing another arrow at another Empire flyer. "You could still join us, Teach. The Alliance isn't a lost cause–far from it, actually."

Byleth shakes her head. "I stand with the Blue Lions and the Kingdom, Claude. I will protect them."

Through the days at the Officer's Academy, Byleth had known Claude to be tricky, deceptive, and entirely too adept at hiding how he felt about things. Even now, after five years of war and pain, he is tough to read, but Byleth has enough practice in reading people who don't want to be read–Dimitri, Felix, Seteth. There is disappointment and frustration in Claude's face, but the way he stands with one foot slightly behind the other bearing most of his weight, betrays something else.

He stands like he's going to run. He is afraid.

Fear isn't something Byleth has seen a lot of in Claude and she's horrified to think that he's scared of her. It is more likely, however, that he is afraid of Dimitri's savagery and losing a needless 3-way battle.

"You could have stood with us," Claude says quietly. The finality of his words stings because he isn't wrong and for the first time Byleth sees how truly disappointed Claude had been when she had chosen to stand with Dimitri and the Blue Lions all those years ago at the Academy.

"Would this have all turned out differently?" Byleth askes before she can hold her tongue.

Claude shrugs and swings himself back up into his saddle. "I don't know," he admits. "But, it could have."

His wyvern takes off without another word and leaves Byleth standing on a battlefield. She feels oddly small and alone despite the violent clashes happening all around her. She watches as Claude flies back towards where the Alliance came from. It seems impossible, but as soon as he starts to retreat, Byleth watches other generals and captains of the Alliance start to pull away too.

"He's right, you know."

Byleth's head snaps forward. Three paces away stands Hilda with the same princess-like poise and bright pink hair. Her expression is schooled irritation and frustration, just like Claude's had been. She's wielding a relic–an axe Byleth remembers her receiving partway through the year at the Officer's Academy.

"You could have chosen us," Hilda says, echoing Claude's earlier sentiments.

Then, she's gone, retreating into the fray in the direction Claude had left.

* * *

Later, after Felix strikes Dimitri with the grief of a lost and lonely son, and after Dedue, Mercedes and Ashe head for the cathedral, and after Annette escorts Felix to the greenhouse to get away from Dimitri, Byleth is cornered by Ingrid and Sylvain again.

They buried Rodrigue, they tell her and ask where Felix and Dimitri are. Byleth casts her eyes down and tells them that she last saw Felix with Annette heading to the greenhouse. She admits that she doesn't know where Dimitri went, but asks them to let her deliver the news.

Much later, Dimitri breaks down in the rain and she takes him into her arms. They stand quietly for a long time. Dimitri's face is pressed against her shoulder and her fingers are wound into the matted fur of his mantle.

Despite the pain in her chest, her mind is light and she knows, beyond a doubt, that _Dimitri is back._

* * *

/ _harpstring moon_ /

Fhirdiad isn't what Byleth is expecting. The battle, however, goes as well as she can imagine it would. Byleth had tackled the left flank with Ashe. The two of them used magic and arrows to cause havoc and clear a path for Ingrid and Seteth to lead the Kingdom's flyers forward. Dedue and Gilbert lead the armoured units and Byleth even sees some of the mercenaries from Duscur that helped Dedue.

Mercedes commands a legion of monks, sending spiralling white magic and the occasional lightning attack. Sylvain leads the charge with his cavalry battalion, followed closely by Felix and Dimitri who appear to have reconciled enough to fight like friends again. Annette and her mages send wave after wave of black magic through the right flank, pressing forward.

Byleth merges her path with Dimitri's right as they reach Cornelia. Just as Dimitri is striking out with Areadbhar, there's an insistent tug in Byleth's stomach and she almost keels over in surprise.

"_Save her!_"–comes the whisper of a voice from deep inside Byleth. Her head whips around and she catches sight of Annette's fiery hair dropping to the ground out of view.

Byleth triggers Divine Pulse, her blood burning. Now that she's looking for it, she sees the lance wielding units getting dangerously close to the Kingdom mages. Byleth is too far to do anything and for a horrible moment, she thinks she is going to lose Annette and there will be nothing she can do about it.

"Ashe!" she yells wildly, hoping desperately that he can hear her. "Get Annette!"

She doesn't hear a response from her archer, but after a dreadful second, she spots a volley of arrows cutting down Annette's would-be killers. In the same moment, Dimitri slashes into Cornelia who knocks him back with a nasty wave of some cursed, blackened magic. Byleth refocuses and sends the Sublime Sword of the Creator crashing over the wicked woman.

Her blade cuts true and Dimitri's spear lands a blow in perfect tandem. Cheers go up through the Kingdom's forces and the Empire supporters quickly lose morale and their panicked retreat begins.

Byleth's knees shake and she almost buckles to the ground. Dimitri extends a hand and pulls her close to his steady, broad frame. She rests her forehead against his chest and breathes. _Alive, alive, alive,_ her mind sings.

She thinks of the voice that had whispered to her and smiles faintly. She curls a hand over her heart and thinks of Sothis.

_I knew I was not done with you yet, my friend_, she thinks.

* * *

/ _garland moon_ /

Claude curls her fingers around Failnaught. The bow hums with life under her touch. The steel in his green eyes she remembers from Gronder is gone now and there is a quiet resignation to the way that he looks at her.

"I can't take this," she whispers in reply. _You can't leave_, her mind whispers.

"Claude, are you insane?" Dimitri asks. He stands just behind Byleth and she can feel the heat of his body and it makes her mind spin.

The _former_ Alliance leader shrugs. "Probably, but I've got business elsewhere and I think you guys have got this handled."

Byleth frowns. "Come with us when we march on Enbarr." She tries to hand him the relic back, but Claude shakes his head.

Claude's eyes flick from Byleth's face to Dimitri's and he smiles a little wistfully. "No, Teach, that's a battle for the Kingdom and the Blue Lions, not the Golden Deer." He inclines his chin and there's a glint in his eyes. "In another life, maybe," he teases.

Then he leans forward and presses his lips to Byleth's cheekbone. She freezes at the touch and he moves around her to embrace Dimitri. Claude holds the back of the Kingdom Prince's head as they press their foreheads together in a show of solidarity. It is relieving to her to see that both of them still consider each other friends and allies after everything they've been through.

"Give her hell for me," Claude requests.

"We will," Dimitri affirms.

And then he's gone, climbing onto the back of white wyvern that Byleth has never seen before and taking off into the eastern skies.

* * *

/ _blue sea moon_ /

Byleth takes down Caspar and Linhardt herself. Caspar's face is hardened with resolve and the boyish charm from his youth is long gone. Linhardt's face doesn't show a lick of emotion as he sends barrage after barrage of wind magic at them. Annette counters him as best as she can, but even with Felix's assistance, Byleth is the only one who can get close.

Caspar rains blows upon her as she gets close to Linhardt and she knows there is no way to avoid it. She scorches him with fire and turns her blade on the mage. Her two students–two who used to have no taste for violence–fall in a bloody, broken heap and Byleth drops to her knees in front of them.

Dimitri takes her arm and pulls her back to her feet. He stares at their bodies for a long moment before he turns his good eye on Byleth. He is alive with emotion and Byleth feels a familiar pull in her heart.

"Make it worth it," he says to her.

She takes down the Death Knight–_Emile, Mercedes laments_–and Merceus has fallen. The path to Enbarr is clear.

* * *

/ _verdant rain moon_ /

Byleth is standing over the grave of her parents when Dimitri finds her. He's never been good at being quiet so she hears him coming, but she just lets her head stay down for a moment, hoping he'll leave. She's not quite sure why she wants to avoid him, but her father's words are somehow fresh in her mind and they bring up things she's not sure she can talk about the day before what is likely to be the biggest battle she ever has to fight.

He doesn't leave. He just waits three paces behind her–waits for her to be ready to speak to him.

After a minute, Byleth finally turns to him. He isn't wearing his full mantle and he carries no weapons on him. It feels more exposed that she has seen him in a long time and she steps towards him curiously. He watches her, saying nothing, and there's a quiet tenderness in his good eye that warms her to the core.

"Thank you, Professor," he says finally. "For choosing us and for keeping us all alive."

Byleth laughs breathlessly and shakes her head. "I wouldn't change anything," she says firmly.

"_And you would do it a thousand times again,_" that same breathy whisper from inside of her adds on.

She steps into him and Dimitri holds her close. Neither of them moves for a while, lingering in a moment that feels out of place in the lives of two war-hardened fighters. Still, they treasure it and Byleth breathes deeply inhaling the familiar smell that lingers on him.

"Stay alive," she whispers.

"After you," he replies.

_Always_, she thinks softly.

* * *

_We did it, Sothis_, Byleth thinks. Her arm stings from the wound it bears and she is exhausted.

She stands a step behind Dimitri as he extends a hand towards Edelgard's crumpled form. To her dismay, Edelgard averts her gaze and refuses to acknowledge Dimitri. Byleth presses a hand comfortingly against Dimitri's spine as his shoulders hunch in disappointment. She is about to speak up to console him when she hears it–

–the cool slide of metal against leather as a blade pulls free of a sheath.

Dimitri hears it too and his arm responds faster than his brain. Areadbhar glides forward under his practiced touch and pierces Edelgard's chest right over her heart. In the same motion, with a poise and posture Byleth remembers teaching, Edelgard's wrist snaps and the dagger flies out from under her cloak.

The Emperor collapses immediately, but Dimitri hardly flinches. Byleth steps around him, moving to lower Edelgard's body to the ground. Despite everything the woman had done, Byleth looks at her and sees the girl not quite ready to grow up and shoulder the gravity of her large ambitions, the same girl she met in Remire Village all that time ago.

Byleth's hands are red with Edelgard's blood as she steps back, turning to face Dimitri. She expects to see him with a knife in hand and a wound on his shoulder or upper arm.

She doesn't expect the single blue eye wide with pain and panic as he staggers to the side. Byleth lunges forward to catch him and Dimitri's much heavier frame drags them both to the ground in a heap. She runs her hands desperately over his chest, her breathing increasing as she realizes what has happened.

Edelgard's dagger, the very same one gifted to her by a young Dimitri, is embedded in Dimitri's chest, dangerously close to his heart.

Byleth presses her hands to his chest around the blade and tries to pull a healing spell from her reserves, but she spent her last one keeping Mercedes on her feet. Her fingers scrabble loosely across Dimitri's armour instead.

One of his hands curls up over hers. She drops her gaze to his quickly and her whole body aches with the tenderness in his gaze.

"Byleth," he breathes gently. "My beloved," he murmurs as his bloody fingers squeeze her hand weakly.

"Dimitri," she whispers. Her voice catches. Emotions whirl through her mind–snatched moments and feelings that have been kept bottled up for years. The Sublime Creator Sword glows next to her as if it's taunting her.

Dimitri's grip slackens a little. The pain and adoration in his visible eye fade slowly to a blank indifference. His chest sinks down to its lowest point and doesn't rise. Against her legs where his chest is propped, Byleth feels the thrum of his heart fade.

She screams.

Her voice breaks up a pitch in her grief and she feels electricity spark and crash nearby. Her hands glow with renewed healing and she pulls Edelgard's knife free, desperately trying to knit skin where the blade had sunk in. Dimitri doesn't respond to her touch or the glow of her magic and the last barrier holding back her emotions shatters.

_Divine Pulse_, she urges fiercely, begging the lingering remnants of Sothis's power to respond. The Sublime Creator Sword glows beside her, but her mind only shows her the images of all the times she rewound time during the Battle of Enbarr–saving Dedue, saving Ashe, saving Flayn, saving Felix, saving Ashe again, saving Dimitri once before, saving Ingrid and Sylvain, and saving herself once as well.

After an agonizing moment, nothing changes. The light of the sword fades and when she looks at it, Byleth sees that even the residual glow it usually holds has faded back to the cool, white, tempered Umbra Steel it is made from. The handle is cold to the touch as Byleth's hand, covered in a terrifying mix of Dimitri and Edelgard's blood, curls around the hilt.

She screams and hurls the blade several feet away. The steel clangs against the stonework of the Imperial throne room.

"Why now?" she cries. "I have given everything for you and yet I cannot even save him. Why now?"

The throne room is deafeningly silent except for her ragged breathing and the faintest echoes of her shouts.

Byleth pulls Dimitri closer to her and presses her forehead against his. She tries to feel for his presence and his warmth. She feels nothing but the familiar emptiness of a corpse–a sensation she is entirely too familiar with.

Something in Byleth breaks and she cries openly. Her shoulders shake as her fingers twine in the matted fur of the prince's mantle. She keeps her forehead pressed against his as she whispers what she wanted him to know.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." And it's true–agonizingly, undeniably true.

Byleth sits on the floor of the Imperial throne room and feels colder and more alone than she has ever felt. Her three original students: Claude, Edelgard, Dimitri. They are all gone. Maybe Claude isn't dead–maybe–but he had handed her Failnaught so he might as well be.

But Edelgard, the fierce and dominating emperor, and Dimitri, the savage and noble Crown Prince, are dead by each other's hand. Dead because of a five-year-long conflict that started as a spat between classmates and the ambitions and grievances of one woman.

Byleth lifts her head to stare at Edelgard's body where it lies on the stonework. Her face is cool and wet with tears.

"Would we still be here if I had noticed sooner? If I had chosen from the start?" she whispers to no one.

"_Would you like to find out?_" the whisper asks, tugging at her gut.

Byleth knows now, without a doubt, that the voice is Sothis's. The goddess's voice is soft and far away, but achingly familiar. The goddess sounds like she is trapped behind layers of stone, but the words come straight from her heart.

_Could I?_

"_I don't know, but I think we must try, don't you?_"

Byleth looks down at the unmoving form of the man she loves and she thinks of all those who had died to get her this far. She thinks of the rest of her Blue Lions that she's not even sure are still alive. She thinks of Lorenz and Hilda and the rest of the Golden Deer and of Ferdinand, Dorothea, Petra, Linhardt, Caspar, Hubert, and Bernadetta who she cut down to get this far.

_I owe it to them to try_, she decides. _What can I do?_

Sothis's voice feels different now than it did before they merged, but the goddess is still warm. Though her words are quiet, Byleth feels their reverberation through every bone in her body.

"_Close your eyes and focus. Find the thread that ties us together._"

Byleth lets her consciousness drift and she finds herself back in that odd place where she used to share her visions of the goddess. This time she is alone, but she reaches out and feels for anything tangible. Her fingers find the outline of a thread in her mind that glows brightly and with the most insistence.

She feels Sothis's ethereal form run a finger along the thread as well. "_This holds everything: our power and memory, your training, your relationships, your emotions, and everything you've had for the last few years._"

Byleth lets her fingers curl around it. It is warm and fills her with a sense of humanity so strong she tears up. Every positive interaction she's ever shared with a Knight of Seiros, a Golden Deer, a Black Eagle, or one of her darling Blue Lions is stored there. Her father lives in her memory there. The pain is there too, but Byleth's fragile humanity clings to the happiness.

"_You have been loved in this life,_" Sothis murmurs.

_And I have loved._

"_Do you remember being the Ashen Demon? That was before you and I were aware of each other enough to let you be mortal, as you are._"

_I remember_, she says and she does. Its darkness is buried in the thread beneath her fingers too, but she doesn't want to remember those parts.

"_Byleth_," the goddess whispers. Sothis's hand closes around her own. "_Break it. Break it and you'll go back. You'll carry these memories forever, but you can try again._"

Byleth hesitates. _I will remember?_

"_Every bit of it, I promise. I will be with you there too and we will try again._"

_Okay_, she thinks. Her grip tightens on the thread until it starts to hurt.

The pain flares deeply, cutting her right to the core, but she feels something break and the walls holding Sothis are gone as the goddess's arms wrap around her to protect her from the blast that the breaking of the thread releases.

Gold sears across her mind and Byleth closes her eyes and exhales.

_Thank you, Sothis._

* * *

/ _great tree moon_ /

Byleth wakes up in a hard bed in an upstairs room in the inn in Remire Village.

"_Let's try that again,_" Sothis whispers.

* * *

_Author's Note: Canon is broken, let's do this again. Keep an eye out for part 3 and I'm sure some stuff will make sense soon. Love you guys xoxo._


	3. iii - white clouds, redux

_iii - white clouds, redux_

* * *

/ _great tree moon_ /

If Byleth swings her sword a little quicker now, Jeralt doesn't notice. Cutting through the bandits is achingly familiar, but she feels weak. Her muscles are looser and not as practiced and the skill of her students is lacking as well. Byleth finds herself fighting close to Dimitri's side out of habit, but it feels wrong somehow to see him as he used to be–whole and unbroken.

There's a terrible, dark moment when she sees the leader of the bandits lunge at Edelgard. She wonders, _what if I don't save her? What happens then?_ Her feet are anchored into the ground as her mind deliberates.

The answer is not one she likes. Both Claude and Dimitri lunge forward to protect the Imperial Princess in her stead. Dimitri takes the axe across the back and his lance dips and plunges into Claude's stomach as the Alliance Heir shoves Edelgard away. Byleth doesn't wait for their bodies to hit the ground before she's whipping time backwards.

"_As to be expected_," Sothis says. "_We'll have to change things later on._"

Byleth drives her blade up and protects Edelgard. She escorts the students back to the monastery, alongside her father, Alois and the Knights of Seiros. The familiarity of everything hurts and Byleth can't help but feel that she's trudging an endlessly repeating path to a mass grave.

As Garreg Mach looms above before them, Byleth can feel the unease rolling off of her father. Alois seems excited, as always, but Byleth keeps her mouth pressed quietly into a firm line. She watches Dimitri and the other exchange barbs. There's a lightness about him here, in this moment, that she aches to feel, but now that she looks at him all she can see is the hunched shoulders and incredible pain of the Dimitri he may become five years from now.

Edelgard's posture is stiff, but it's not yet the posture of the emperor she may become. Her lips still quirk at something Claude says which tells Byleth that she has time. Now that she's looking closely, she easily picks out the sheath of Dimitri's dagger at her hip. If it mysteriously disappeared, would it fix anything?

Claude, on the other hand, is still just Claude. His green eyes are playful and allude to the cleverness that hides just beneath the surface. To her surprise, however, Claude keeps stealing glances at her. When he studies her when he thinks she's not watching, his brow furrows just a bit and Byleth sees the analytic part of her student as he tries to dissect her with his gaze alone.

Later, after Alois drags Jeralt off for a drink and Byleth is left standing in the entrance hall with the three house leaders, Dimitri and Edelgard excuse themselves to find the rest of their houses. Claude lingers.

"This is going to sound a bit crazy," he says slowly. "But, have we met before?"

Byleth feels surprise ripple across her face because of course they have met before, but there is no way that Claude has any memory of it because that timeline was destroyed the moment she broke that thread.

_Sothis?_ she inquires cautiously.

"_Hmm, how peculiar,"_ the goddess muses in Byleth's head. "_He certainly has no real memory of you_, _but perhaps this is something deeper at work_."

"No," Byleth articulates finally. "I've always been with my father and I've never left Fódlan."

Claude shakes his head briefly and gives her one of his signature trouble-maker smiles. "Of course, how silly of me to assume otherwise."

He leaves then and Byleth watches him go, a warm curiosity blossoming in her chest. _Maybe_, she ponders.

"_Indeed_," Sothis agrees.

* * *

The second time, she succumbs to her wonderings about Claude, Alliance Heir.

* * *

/ _harpstring moon_ /

The Golden Deer have a kind of unrestrained chaos that was absent through her time with the Blue Lions. Sothis finds it funny as she struggles to rein in Claude and Hilda and to connect to the quiet Ignatz and Marianne.

Leonie seems to have a grudge against Byleth that can only be attributed to both of their relationships with Jeralt. Lorenz seems to have a mild enough interest in her, but she remembers that it is simply due to her Crest-bearing nature, even if no one here knows she has the Crest of Flames yet. Raphael is bright and optimistic and seems interested in her strength on the battlefield and her appetite in the dining hall.

Ignatz is quieter, but she catches him studying her many times as she lectures. Byleth hides her smile and lets him doodle her portrait. He has a great talent. Marianne is back to the quiet, self-hating girl Byleth remembers from before the war and she does everything she can to try to boost the girl's spirits. Lysithea is all sharp edges and defensiveness. She continues to work herself to the bone and Byleth brings her sweet treats and soothing tea to absolve the girl of some of her stress. Its origin is unknown to her, but she refuses to let any student of hers crumble under the pressure.

Hilda is both infuriating and entertaining to watch. She's a beast on the battlefield, cutting down her foes precisely and powerfully. But, she plays herself off as a dainty flower, batting her eyelashes and showering her fellow students in compliments until they do her dirty work. Byleth just rolls her eyes and presses Hilda for answers in class until she inevitably gives up the act and gives the answer that she's looking for.

Claude seems to find everything Byleth does funny. He sits in the middle of the classroom, close enough that she knows he takes notes in his elegantly messy scrawl, but he watches her all through class and combat training and even over shared meals like he's trying to break her down slowly. He has a calm, casual smirk on at almost all times, but it never seems to soften the sharp judgement of his green eyes.

In the time she has been here, Claude has not given up on his theory that he has met Byleth before and she would be lying if she said she wasn't a little bit worried about that fact. Claude is disastrously clever and the last thing she needs is a distraction from the reason that she's here–to fix things. Sothis finds him funny and takes every occasion to tell Byleth so.

Byleth ignores her for the most part, but when Claude gives her a more genuine smile it warms her right to the core and she has to turn away to hide the growing smile on her own face.

* * *

/ _garland moon_ /

Facing off against Lonato feels strange without Ashe. Byleth has made a habit of checking in on her Blue Lions students pretty regularly and trying to forge connections with them even as she leads the Deer. She finds him in the cathedral the night after Lonato's death against and this time she sits with him and holds out her hand.

Ashe takes it without a word and squeezes it so tightly that it stings. After a while, his grip loosens, but his head hangs and he doesn't let her go. He doesn't seem to understand Byleth's investment in the situation, but he says nothing to her. When he finally leaves in the early hours of the morning, Byleth lingers, staring up at the statue of Saint Seiros.

_Is any of this pain worth it?_ she asks silently.

"_Is any of it preventable?_" Sothis inquires back.

Byleth frowns. _I don't think so._

"_Then we must keep going,_" the goddess says.

Byleth nods and turns to leave. Claude is standing in the entranceway of the cathedral, staring at her and she stumbles when she sees him.

"Good morning, Teach," he says casually.

Byleth folds her arms as she approaches her student. "What are you doing awake?"

Claude shrugs. "I was going to do some aerial patrols and I saw you and Ashe. What's your deal with the Blue Lions, anyway?"

Byleth presses her lips together. "They're good kids. You all are. I'm just trying to make sure that everyone gets their fair share of time with me. I do teach everyone even if I'm leading the Golden Deer."

Claude steps forward, tipping his head to the side like a cat. The sharpness of his eyes glitters in the dim light of the cathedral. "And these good kids must include Edelgard and Hubert, right? And that's why you refused to correct Edelgard's axe grip even if you spent almost an hour trying to get Hilda to admit she already knew it."

"_This child is too observant for his own good_," Sothis grumbles.

Byleth steels herself and tries to present the neutral expression that had been second nature to her when she had been the Ashen Demon. "Shouldn't you be glad I'm not increasing the skills of another House Leader as much as I am with someone in your own house?"

Claude recognizes her deflection and gives her a slightly cheeky smile. "I am going to figure you out, Teach, you can mark my words." He winks and turns to leave, the yellow of his cape fluttering with the movement.

Something deep inside Byleth aches for a familiar blue cloak and the quiet stolen moments she shared with Dimitri in another life. She frowns as she watches Claude leave. He whistles for a wyvern as he's partway across the bridge connecting the monastery proper to the cathedral. He flies away on the beast like it's second nature to him and Byleth shifts uncomfortably.

Sothis is right. Claude is entirely too clever and observant for his own good. She needs to try harder.

* * *

/ _blue sea moon_ /

Byleth has tea with Ferdinand and Lorenz one afternoon and smiles at the bottom of her cup as the two nobles chat about frugal things. It's a conversation that she's sat through before, but it's nice to see a lighter, genuine side to both of the students.

"Have you ever thought about changing houses, Ferdinand?" she asks before she can stop herself.

Ferdinand's teacup pauses halfway to his mouth. He cocks an eyebrow at her. "To the Golden Deer?"

Byleth shrugs. "Or to the Blue Lions."

Ferdinand muses over it for a moment. "It's an interesting proposition, Professor, and if my loyalties didn't lie so heavily in the Empire, I might consider it more."

Lorenz chuckles. "Well, we did win the mock battle so I can't blame you for wanting to join the clearly superior house."

Byleth laughs lightly at Lorenz's words, but the depth of Ferdinand's words draw her the image of the young man so corrupted by loyalty he died for a ruler who had no particular care for him. She bites into her lip and hides her displeasure behind her teacup.

They're sharing tea in Byleth's quarters upon Lorenz's suggestion and as she looks past her two guests, she spots Dimitri strolling by. She stands up before she even realizes what she's doing. She pauses, looking down at her students and smiling.

"Excuse me for a moment, I just need to grab Dimitri for a moment."

She slips out of the room before either noble heir can protest and sees that luckily Dimitri hasn't gone too far.

"Dimitri!" she calls out.

The Blue Lions Leader turns and smiles upon seeing her. "Professor, what a pleasant surprise!"

She smiles back at him. "Would you like to join us for some tea? Lorenz and Ferdinand had just stopped by and I thought you might want to sit down with us."

Dimitri's smile dips a little and he glances to his right to the Training Hall. "Ah, I would, but I had promised to train with Ingrid and Sylvain."

Byleth steps back. "I won't keep you then."

Dimitri looks back towards the Training Hall and hesitates. "But, if you'd like to join us after you finish with tea, I'm sure we would all appreciate your guidance."

Byleth raises her eyebrow. "Lances and spears are definitely not my strength so I'm sure you're all more adept than I would be." She presses him curiously, interested to see how he responds.

"But you're a strong fighter so you could figure it out, or you could use a sword and just absolutely destroy us either way," Dimitri points out.

Byleth chuckles. "I suppose I could." She glances past Dimitri to see Claude exiting the Training Hall and she consciously steps back, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between her and Dimitri.

Claude beelines towards them and slings an arm around Dimitri's shoulders, smirking. "Hello Dimitri, Teach," he greets.

Dimitri tenses at Claude's touch, but relaxes once the Alliance heir starts speaking. "Hello Claude," Dimitri greets coolly.

Byleth notes that the tension isn't completely gone from the prince's shoulders. He's definitely not as comfortable with Claude as he feels around just Byleth. She presses her lips together and turns her attention to Claude.

"Would you like to join Lorenz, Ferdinand and myself for tea, Claude?" she invites politely.

Claude winks at her. "I'd be honoured. I'll see you around then Dimitri." Claude lets Dimitri go and brushes past them both towards Byleth's quarters.

Byleth hesitates for a moment before following after Claude. "I'll see you for training later then," she says as a way of goodbye to Dimitri.

He smiles and warmth curls in Byleth's chest. He's not lost to her yet.

* * *

Much later, the Sword of the Creator hums in her grip. It's warm to the touch and familiar, but the way that the Golden Deer eye her with awe and surprise is a bit off-putting. She cracks the sword against the stone and cuts down the Church rebels without much further thought. There's no time for her to consult the familiarity coursing through her veins.

She focuses on the fight, not stopping until her breathing is the only thing she can hear. Her chest is tight and she's tired, but she is alive and her Fawns are alive and they're stronger than they used to be. They have gotten used to following her commands and execute them almost flawlessly.

Pride wells in her chest as she examines the path her students have carved. There is loss there too, for the time she has tackled this same set-up with the Blue Lions, but she refocuses on the moment. Her Deer have become important to her too, just like she intended.

"Professor!" Hilda calls.

Byleth turns and sees Hilda striding toward her. Claude is limping along behind her, his eyes fixated on the sword clutched in her hand. Byleth slides it into a loop on her belt and descends the dais towards them.

"Who's hurt?" Byleth asks Hilda.

Hilda shakes her head. "No one seriously," she replies, still staring at Byleth. "What is that?"

"It's the Sword of the Creator," Claude answers. His brow is cocked curiously. Despite whatever reason he is limping for, he doesn't seem to care, focusing entirely on the unique relic Byleth holds. "Isn't it?"

Byleth nods slowly. "Yes, I think so."

Claude shakes his head. He is obviously still suspicious, but his relief at the end of the battle seems to dominate his current consciousness. "I think you're going to have to explain some things to Rhea, Teach."

"_Explain to Rhea?_" Sothis scoffs. "_More like she has some things to tell us._"

Byleth shrugs both for Claude and Hilda and the goddess in her head. "I'm hoping she'll be able to answer some of my questions, actually."

* * *

/ _verdant rain moon_ /

The black beast that Miklan turns into is no less unnerving this time than it was last time. It roars and charges her students and Byleth doesn't have time to be distracted. It seems to have a personal grudge against Ignatz as it pursues her archer even as he retreats.

Byleth doesn't have time to get to his side before it's atop him–_jaws tearing at his throat his chest_–and then she's calling on her Divine Pulse and praying desperately she can prevent that future from coming to fruition. For a terrifying moment, Byleth hears the beast's cries echo across the stones mixed with the terror of her students, and then her gut lurches and time winds backwards.

She instructs Ignatz to stay back this time and the beast focuses on her instead. She faces it down, clutching the sword so tightly that her palm burns from its constant heat. She slashes at it, Lysithea blasts it with her dark magic, and Marianne's white magic keeps her on her feet long enough to take it down.

Ignatz approaches her after, holding out a Vulnerary. "Professor," he says, brow creased. "How did you know to keep Claude, Leonie, and I out of its line of sight? We would have been done if that thing had gotten in close range."

Byleth downs the healing drought and smiles warily at her student. "I have a feeling that that thing was still clever enough to see an advantage where it could take it."

Ignatz studies her face for a long moment and Byleth hopes he can't read the lie on her face. After a moment, he nods and turns away. Byleth exhales and rubs her shoulder. The vulnerary has helped some, but she's still aching.

_Better me than them_, she thinks determinedly.

"_They're different from the others,_" Sothis notes quietly.

Byleth considers the statement, watching as they clear the ruins of the bodies of the thieves, helping each other and passing around healing items to those who need them. Lysithea and Marianne focus on magic while Raphael and Hilda do much of the heavy lifting. They know their strengths and play to them.

_I think I love them too,_ Byleth admits.

Sothis laughs and it warms Byleth where her heart should be. "_I know you do_."

* * *

At the monastery, as soon as Manuela lets her out of the infirmary, Byleth looks for Ingrid and Felix. They're chatting quietly in the Knight's Hall and look surprised to see her.

"Professor!" Ingrid exclaims, straightening her spine as Byleth approaches. "Weren't you hurt?"

Byleth waves off the concern. "Nevermind that." Felix eyes her slightly suspiciously and Byleth takes a deep breath. "I can talk to Hanneman for you," she offers.

Ingrid looks surprised, but Felix keeps his face strategically neutral. "Why?" he asks bluntly.

Byleth smiles sadly. "Because I know Sylvain is hurting and I want to help."

Ingrid frowns. "You don't have to do that."

"You'll do it even if we tell you not to though," Felix discerns, studying her face.

Byleth nods. "I will. I wish I could have stopped it."

"Did he really turn into a beast?" Ingrid asks quietly.

"I wish I could tell you otherwise," Byleth says slowly.

Felix turns away, staring at a training dummy in the sandpit instead. "And now Rhea wants Sylvain to take that relic, doesn't she?"

"He's safe to use it," Byleth assures, but Felix turns his flint sharp gaze back to her quickly.

"And you're sure about that?"

_No_, Byleth thinks desperately. _I don't know if having the relics brings more pain than it's worth, but I'd so much rather it be in his hands than the hands of the church._

"Yes," she says instead.

Felix looks frustrated, but Ingrid nods. "We'll talk to Sylvain," she says finally.

"I wish you didn't have to," Byleth adds before she turns to leave. _I wish I could absolve you all of your pain and your burdens_.

* * *

/ _horsebow moon_ /

Byleth feels the burn of the poison in her veins as soon as the Death Knight's scythe cuts into her. The familiar burn triggers something in her and she drops to her knees as pain turns her vision white.

"Professor!" Lorenz yells. He's the closest to her so he pulls her to her feet and studies her face intensely, trying to see why she collapsed.

Byleth drops the Sword of the Creator and breathes slowly as her vision comes back to her. The pain isn't even that bad yet, but the memory of it seems to have shocked her body to the extreme. "Get Claude," she orders strictly.

She stumbles against him and Lorenz whips his head around. "Raphael!" he yells. "Get Flayn and Monica out of here. Leonie, find Claude. The professor needs help."

Byleth feels a spark of admiration for the leadership traits Lorenz has, even if he buries them under layers of noble snobbery most times. Marianne hurries over to them and her white magic tingles as it heals most of Byleth's wounds. She says something softly to Lorenz that Byleth doesn't catch, but Lorenz shakes his head in response.

Another pulse of fire burns from the wound and Byleth grimaces. She steps away from Lorenz and looks around the crypt. The strange soldiers are gone now, including the Death Knight, but their presence makes Byleth's skin crawl. Those soldiers had been Edelgard's last time and the insignias they bear this time are the same.

_Am I too late? Did I not do enough?_

Sothis doesn't reply and anger prickles along her skin. She has torn apart her future to come back to try and stop the war and to save her students and she isn't sure that she can handle losing them again.

"Teach!" Claude yells. Leonie and Claude are rushing towards them. There's a smear of red across Claude's cloak from where he had dammed Manuela's wound. He looks wild and shaken, but relief blossoms across his features as he realizes Byleth is still standing.

His hands land on her biceps as he reaches her, looking her up and down. "What's wrong, Teach?"

Poison pulses through her veins. She grimaces and grips Claude's hand in her own. She slides it towards the wound. His hand is warm against her even through her shirt. The blood seems to concern him, but he's sharp and knows that's not what is actually bothering her.

"Leonie, give me your hunting knife," he instructs.

He cuts away the fabric where it sticks to her skin and curses as he uncovers the wound. Leonie, behind him, blanches at the sight of the blackened veins. "What the hell?" she exclaims.

Claude touches the wound and fire burns through Byleth. She cries out unintentionally. Claude hisses an apology and fumbles for the pouch of poisons and antidotes on his belt. He pulls out the familiar clear vial. Byleth doesn't hesitate, downing the antidote without waiting for him to say anything.

Most of the pain fades, but the wound still aches dully. Claude slides an arm around her waist. "Come on, Teach, let's get you to the infirmary."

Even with Claude's support, Byleth stumbles her way out of the crypt. Her exhaustion seems to have caught up with her and the lingering effect of the poison amplifies it. She leans her head against his shoulder as they emerge from the tunnel in Jeritza's room and breathes slowly, trying to centre herself.

"Kid?"

That voice makes her look up sharply. Jeralt and a contingent of knights have just entered the room and her father's worried gaze is fixed directly onto her. She straightens up a bit, trying to look less like she's relying on Claude to keep her upright.

"I'm okay," she assures.

Claude snorts out a laugh. "The Death Knight's blade was poisoned," he informs. "I got it out of her system, but she needs rest, not whatever the hell Rhea is going to try to have her do."

Jeralt's brow furrows. "I'll worry about Rhea." He walks forward and presses a firm, warm kiss to Byleth's forehead. The display of affection is unusual for Jeralt, but she knows the meaning he places behind it. "Get her to the infirmary," he says to Claude.

Byleth wants to ask him to stay, to take her himself, but he's a captain and he has a job to do. She bites her tongue as he walks by her even if every bone in her body wants him to stay or to leave and get as far away from the monastery as possible. The selfish shadow in her chest tells her that she's not sure she can go through losing him again.

"Teach?" Claude inquires. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Byleth inhales deeply and tears her eyes from where her father had disappeared to. "Yes, I'm just tired."

"_Why are you still lying to him?_" Sothis asks suddenly.

Claude steps forward to assist her again and Byleth realizes that she doesn't have a good answer to that question.

* * *

/ _wyvern moon_ /

This time, Claude once again backs her participation in the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion. Dimitri and Edelgard had protested, as expected, but Byleth studies their expressions as they each present their argument. Dimitri still seems concerned about her well-being, but Edelgard has something cooler and tenser in her expression. It is disconcertingly reminiscent of the expression she had held in the Holy Mausoleum.

Between Claude's scheming and Byleth's tactics, their battle plan comes together smoothly and even more efficient than it had been when she had fought this fight with the Blue Lions. Ignatz and Leonie share the responsibility of the ballista and the defence of it. Lysithea, Marianne, and Lorenz easily sweep through Felix, Ingrid, Dedue, and Sylvain due to their lack of ranged attacks. Byleth, Raphael, Hilda, and Claude take on the Eagles and the whole thing topples with remarkable efficiency.

After the battle, Byleth's standing with Claude atop the hill when Dimitri and Edelgard approach.

"Professor, that was a remarkable strategy," Dimitri compliments. "It's like you knew my every move before I could make it."

Edelgard inclines her chin. "Almost as if you knew what it would be, really," she adds. There's an undertone of suspicion in her tone and Byleth frowns.

Thankfully, Claude, despite his notable previous suspicions, laughs. "Come on then, where's my compliment? I am an equal contributor to this strategy," he argues.

Byleth smiles. "He's right about that," she points out.

Edelgard rolls her eyes. "Your schemes hardly count as a concrete battle plan, Claude."

Dimitri's attention stays fixed on Byleth. "It did all feel familiar," he says to her quietly. "But, strange, nonetheless. Almost like you should have been fighting with me instead of against me."

Byleth laughs weakly. "Strange," she echoes.

Dimitri shakes his head and holds a hand out. His palm is warm against hers as she shakes his hand. "A battle well fought," he concedes.

* * *

/ _red wolf moon_ /

The Golden Deer are equally as disturbed as the Blue Lions were after the battle in Remire Village. Lysithea and Ignatz, in particular, seem concerned with Solon and the fact that he had been disguised as Tomas.

Byleth had been heading back to the Golden Deer classroom when she heard mention that Tomas had been at the monastery by recommendation of House Ordelia. The admission had caught her off-guard so she redoubled her pace to the classroom, wanting to talk to Lysithea again.

Unfortunately, Tomas's connection to House Ordelia is as concerning to Lysithea as it is to Byleth. Her youngest student has three different historical texts in front of her and her eyes have dark circles underneath them. Byleth reaches over and closes the book in front of her. Lysithea turns a burning gaze to her, displeased and Byleth shakes her head.

"Get some rest. The situation won't change much by morning, and we need everyone to be at their best for the future," she says to her student.

Lysithea's shoulders hunch. "I know," she admits slowly. "I just," she trails off, looking frustrated and vulnerable.

"It's not your fault," Byleth says. "Don't ever think that this is your fault."

Without another word, Lysithea twists in her seat and tucks her arms around Byleth's waist. Byleth tenses for a moment before she lowers her hands to reassuringly touch her student's shoulders. Lysithea is stubborn and her refusal to be seen as young means that she builds so many walls to hide her emotions behind. Seeing her scared and vulnerable like this is almost reassuring because it shows Byleth that she's feeling and that she's connecting with people.

The quiet contact between professor and student seems to reassure her and Lysithea pulls away after a lingering moment. She wipes at her eyes and stands up from the table. She looks exhausted, but her shoulders are square as she announces her plan to head to her room and take a nap.

Byleth shifts uncomfortably as she leaves. She can still hear the cries of people in Remire Village in the back of her mind and she's afraid of what it will mean for the next month.

* * *

/ _ethereal moon_ /

The ball is suffocating. She wants to smile and enjoy herself like she did last time–to dance with Dimitri and to spin in silly circles with Claude since neither of them actually know how to dance properly–but the air in the room feels stale and it burns when she breathes.

Byleth ducks out and heads to the goddess tower, hoping that it's empty. The height and quietness of it call to her. She keeps her hands pressed against the stone as she climbs to ground herself. Her head feels like it's spinning as she climbs and her breathing is shallow.

She reaches the top and staggers to the balcony on the edge. She curls her fingers into the stone railing and breathes. The air is cool and it stings, but she's finally able to feel like she's breathing again. She doesn't feel like she's going to collapse anymore.

She stands alone at the top of the tower for a long minute, eyes closed and breathing slowly. There are soft footsteps behind her and she prays for a moment they'll leave so that she can be alone, but not even she is that lucky.

"Teach?"

Byleth turns to face Claude. He is standing just at the top of the stairs and he looks concerned. She bites her lip and turns her gaze back to the window she had been looking out. She can't look at Claude. Like Sothis has said, he is very observant and too good at reading her expressions even when she doesn't want him too.

He apparently either doesn't realize that she wants to be alone, or doesn't care, because she hears him walk over until she can feel the warmth from him radiating into her space. "Are you going to tell me why you ran away from the ball?"

Byleth swallows. "I'm worried about tomorrow," she admits.

Claude raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

Byleth rubs at her temples. "It's not going to go like we think it will."

"You sound sure," he points out.

Byleth bites her lip. She's tired. She's so tired of living the same days and losing people and watching the world fall down the same spiral that led to 5 years of brutal war. She really doesn't want to do this anymore.

Claude contemplates something when she doesn't reply and she feels, more than sees, him shift in her periphery. "Teach, what are you so scared of happening tomorrow?"

Something in Byleth breaks and she leans forward onto her hands, pressing her forehead against the stone. "I'm running in circles and nothing will stop any of this. There is so much senseless death and destruction and I can't make it end. I thought I could stop this, but I've been following the same footsteps and walking the same path."

Claude doesn't hesitate to sink so he's level with her. "Teach–_Byleth_–I don't know what you're talking about."

Byleth inhales slowly and tries to calm her racing mind. "I have a goddess inside my head and I can turn back time," she says abruptly. Claude tenses. She laughs and shakes her head. "You probably think I'm crazy and I don't blame you. Tomorrow my father is going to die and I'm so terrified I won't be able to do anything about it."

"You're not crazy," he says firmly. "I may not understand half of what you just said, but, Teach, you're not crazy. I mean, you trusted me with this, so maybe you're a little crazy, but you're not crazy."

Byleth laughs lowly. "I can't lose him again."

Something warm drapes over her back and shoulders and tugs her sideways. They shift so that they're sitting on the floor of the tower and Claude's arm is wrapped firmly over her shoulder. Byleth presses her head to the crook of his neck and breathes in his familiar scent of pine and parchment.

"We won't lose him," Claude assures.

Byleth shakes her head against his neck. "That's what I said last time."

She can feel his pulse thrumming where she rests against him. He doesn't seem to know where to take the conversation and instead just keeps his arm around her and lets her rest against him where they sit. She's sure there are a million places Claude with his charming smile would rather be, but he makes no attempt to move away from her, staying a warm, reassuring presence to her.

Slowly, Byleth reaches for his hand. She guides his fingers to the inside of her wrist where her own pulse pulses rhythmically. He doesn't say anything, but his index and middle fingers press into her skin as he feels the hum of her pulse. After a moment, she guides his palm up to her upper chest and rests it against her bare skin above where her heart should be. After a moment, Claude stiffens and pulls his hand away.

"You have no heartbeat," he says matter-of-factly. "How is that possible?"

"I have a goddess inside of me and a Crest Stone instead of a heart."

Claude's breath catches as he leans away from her just enough that he can make eye contact with her. "You weren't kidding."

Byleth closes her eyes and shakes her head. "No."

He leans forward again so that their foreheads are pressed together. The moment feels painfully intimate and a part of Byleth's head is in uproar–_DIMITRIDIMITRIDIMITRI_, it whispers–and the rest of her is blissfully silent because as wrong as this feels, it feels more right than most things have since she reset the world.

* * *

Byleth presses her forehead to the side of Jeralt's face and closes her eyes. She's crying and shaking and _everything hurts again_. She thought she had done it right this time, putting herself between her father and Monica, but Jeralt had asked her to check on Leonie who had been injured in the battle. Byleth had hesitated and her father had insisted and Monica had already been walking away.

He had taken her blade straight to the heart as soon as Byleth had turned away. Thales had thwarted her Divine Pulse and Byleth was once again in the mud, clutching the still body of her father.

_Why am I not enough?_ she asks Sothis desperately. _Why can't I save him?_

"_Perhaps this is his fate. I am the Beginning, but I cannot see the End._"

Byleth shakes her head and pulls Jeralt's body closer. With a shaking hand, she tries to pour white magic into him, but just like last time–_just like with Dimitri_–the spell doesn't take. Finally, having exhausted everything, she cries again.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to her dead father.

There's a sharp gasp over her shoulder and a rush of footsteps as her Golden Deer finally find her. A warm body presses against her side and a tan hand reaches forward to gently close Jeralt's eyes. A hand closes over one of hers where she's clutching Jeralt's chest and she leans into the body, letting it keep her upright. The other hand curls over her back, stroking and comforting as best it can.

Claude swallows heavily as he holds her. "I'm sorry," he whispers. It hurts because he knew and he tried, but they're still sitting here and her father is still dead.

The Golden Deer pile around them shortly after. Their hands brush against Byleth and against Claude and against Jeralt. No words are exchanged and no one complains. Raphael inserts himself last, using his large frame to try and shield as many of them as possible from the rain. Leonie presses her head against Byleth's curling both her hands over Byleth and Claude's joined fingers on Jeralt.

The warmth of their bodies pressing around her is like an echo of the other life, but Byleth thinks this one hurts more because she knew it was coming.

"_I'm sorry,_" Sothis whispers. "_I'm so sorry._"

* * *

/ _guardian moon_ /

"_You have got to be kidding me! How could you fall for this again?_" Sothis scolds.

Byleth lets out a growl and spins. The odd place where Sothis resides is exactly as it was last time and she's just as annoyed. "I'm sorry, alright? I just got mad." She exhales slowly and turns back to face the goddess.

Sothis descends the stairs towards her. "_You understand what this means, don't you?_"

Byleth frowns. "I can't leave here without your power, can I?"

Sothis shakes her head. "_No, you can't_. _And we've established that you must go. But,_" the goddess pauses.

Byleth stares at her. Sothis looks remarkably young, as she always has, but she looks troubled. "What is it?"

Sothis reaches out and stops just before she touches Byleth's face. "_My friend,_" she says softly. "_If I go this time, I do not know if you will be able to reach me again._"

Byleth tenses. "I found you last time."

"_And we have been together this time differently than last time. I fear you will feel my absence more._"

Byleth lowers her head. "I have to go."

"_I know,_" Sothis replies. "_And I am sorry, Byleth, that I have not been enough to save your father and that I was not enough to save Dimitri last time._"

Byleth shakes her head and looks the goddess straight in the eye. "We are one, Sothis. Any weakness of yours is a weakness of mine as well. I will find you again when I need you."

Sothis laughs. "_Oh my friend, you misunderstand. I hope you will never have need of me again._"

Without another word, Sothis reaches forward and presses a hand against Byleth's chest. The goddess dissolves into golden light. The light burns, bright and warm and Byleth screams out. Once again, golden light sears the darkness and she swings blindly out with the Sword of the Creator.

The world bends around her and she cuts through it, tearing the fabric of dimensions to return herself back to her world. There are mixed gasps from around her from the Golden Deer and from Solon's forces.

Byleth ignores it all and flies at Solon, letting her rage burn through her as her awakened sword strikes down. She cuts through the remaining enemies in a blind rage, grieving for Jeralt and for Sothis and for everyone that she has lost.

When she's done and Solon is dead, Claude is at her side. His hands grip her arms and steady her as the glowing energy in her veins fades leaving her drained and exhausted. He studies her, taking in changed hair and eyes and shakes his head slowly.

"Your goddess," he murmurs. "She gave you her power?"

Byleth nods. The world blurs at the edges and her eyes are hot with tears. She tries to ask Claude how her Fawns fared, but her tongue is lead in her mouth and the darkness spins violently. She blacks out so hard and so quickly she almost doesn't hear the cry of her name that tears from his throat, drenched in concern.

* * *

/ _pegasus moon_ /

"Hey! Teach!"

Byleth spins to see Claude jogging in her direction. She's standing on the eastern balcony at the cathedral and she's a bit surprised he found her. But, to be fair, Claude is relentless when he wants to be. She nods to him in greeting and he slows to a walk.

"I wanted to catch you before we went into the Holy Mausoleum. I want to know what you're feeling about all of this," he says.

Byleth wraps her arms around her waist and looks out over the monastery again. "I'm still worried," she admits. "There are things that may happen today that we may never recover from. I can only hope we've done enough."

Claude's brow furrows. "This isn't just about what revelation you may receive is it?"

Byleth sighs. "No, it isn't."

"We'll be with you, Teach, all of us. No matter what."

Byleth turns to look fully at Claude. "That promise we all made to come back in five years. Do you think they'll honour that too?"

Claude laughs. "You've met us, right? We're a bunch of crazy sentimental fools."

Byleth smiles and it feels a little sad. "I like the sound of a bunch of sentimental fools."

Claude smiles and something in Byleth's stomach twists. She has no idea what awaits them in the Holy Mausoleum and she can only hope it won't be exactly what she's expecting. She steps toward him and slides her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Claude," she says quietly.

He hugs her back and for a moment it's quiet, just the two of them and the wind.

* * *

After Rhea gives her the order, Byleth's grip on the Sublime Creator Sword tightens until it hurts. She stares down the leader of the Black Eagle House.

"Is it worth all of this, Edelgard?" she asks.

Edelgard's face is steeled cold and neutral. "Everything was leading to this. I've accomplished my aims here."

"Why does it have to lead to war?" Byleth presses.

Edelgard frowns. "There is no other alternative. Professor, we have been walking this path since the moment we met. There was no other way this could go."

Byleth holds her sword out and shakes her head. "If I'd come to you, could I have set you off this path?"

Edelgard's expression hardens into something that's almost cruel. It almost reconciles the images she has of the Flame Emperor's cruelty and the young woman before her. "Professor, if you would have joined me, you would have had the pleasure of being on the winning side of this war that will come."

Hubert appears in a burst of light and then they're both gone and Byleth's chest tightens until it hurts. _Inevitable_, she laments. _Was all of this for naught?_ It hurts to consider that everything she had been through, all her pain and suffering, was just so that the world could walk the same brutal, bloody path again.

Byleth closes her eyes and lets the tip of her sword brush against the stone. She doesn't want to see the rage on Rhea's face and the dismay and betrayal on Claude's. She doesn't want to think about telling Dimitri and initializing the Kingdom Prince's true descent into madness.

She doesn't want to think of Thales and the cliff and what might come next.

* * *

/ _lone moon_ /

Byleth finds the Blue Lions in their classroom, looking serious and troubled. She has just finished speaking with the Golden Deer about the situation and imagines Hanneman has done the same for the Blue Lions. Still, several of them turn sharply in her direction when she enters that classroom.

"Professor!" Ashe exclaims. He wrings his hands in front of his, his brow creased. "Is it all true?"

Byleth nods slowly. "Edelgard is the Flame Emperor and she is leading a march on Garreg Mach. We must be prepared."

Sylvain frowns. "And the Black Eagles?"

Byleth shakes her head. "No, none of them knew but Hubert. I imagine many of them are just as shocked as the rest of us." She looks around the classroom and notices two notable absences. She bites her lip and turns towards Felix and Ingrid, almost not ready to hear the answer to the question on the tip of her tongue. "Where are Dimitri and Dedue?"

Felix scoffs. "The Boar is in the Knight's Hall butchering everything he can get his hands on before he gets to Edelgard."

Byleth flinches. She had, futilely, hoped to be the one to talk to Dimitri, but it didn't look like she was going to get that chance. There is a good chance that Dimitri has already started his spiralling into the mad prince he became after five years. "Dedue is with him?"

"Yes," Annette pipes up. "The rest of us thought it would be good to give him some space."

"It's hard to believe Edelgard would do all of this," Mercedes murmurs softly.

"She's always been ambitious, but this isn't what I was expecting at all," Ingrid adds.

Byleth pulls a hand through her newly mint-coloured hair and sighs heavily. "It will not be an easy fight, that is for sure, but we must all survive."

She turns to leave the Blue Lions. They are not hers anymore, no matter how much she still cares for them now. She hopes that her attempts to guide them and connect with them this time have resonated enough to keep them the same kids and young adults she knows going into the future. She pauses at the threshold of the Blue Lion classroom.

"It's a shame there won't be a celebration for the Millennium Festival. I would have looked forward to seeing you all there."

* * *

After the initial briefing, Byleth is placed in charge of relaying the commands to Dimitri and Claude. She sends a squire to summon them both and meets them above the graveyard where if she cranes her neck she can just see where both of her parents are buried. It doesn't take long after she summons them for the two remaining House Leaders to find her.

Dimitri looks haunted. His eyes are tired and his posture stiff and alert. His facade of "perfect prince" is well enough in place for those who don't know him, but Byleth sees through it and she knows the Lions do too.

Claude, on the other hand, simply looks tired. His green eyes are dimmer than usual and his hair is messy, even for him. He has a book tucked under his arm and a bow slung along his back.

They both look achingly young for what lies ahead.

"I have information from Rhea and Seteth about the plans to protect the monastery. We want to protect the monastery, but if it comes to it, it is more important to evacuate those who cannot fight. We want to survive, not be slaughtered here," Byleth instructs.

Both Claude and Dimitri take in the information silently, nodding along as she relays their instructions. When she reaches the end of the information that Rhea had given her, she pauses. Byleth holds out both of her hands, one to each of her students.

Claude doesn't hesitate before slipping his hand into hers. Dimitri takes a moment longer, but she has forged enough trust with him that he does take her hand. She squeezes both of their hands and sends a silent prayer to Sothis that this is not the last time she will see them.

"You must survive," she tells them. "Your people will need you and we will see each other again."

If her words ring oddly to them, neither says a word. Dimitri's hand–large and calloused across the palm–squeezes her back lightly. Claude's hand–slimmer and rough along the fingertips–reciprocates a tighter grip.

* * *

In the end, little changes. There is a cliff and a crack and this time she doesn't scream.

She closes her eyes before she hits the ground and welcomes–

_darkness._

* * *

_Author's Note: I have one chapter left of Verdant Wind. That's all the explanation you get for this. That, and Claude's little nickname for Byleth makes my heart ache._


	4. iv - verdant wind

_iv - verdant wind_

* * *

/ _ethereal moon_ /

She awakens silently this time. No voice calls out to her from inside the deepest parts of her mind and no villager stands above her, concerned for her safety. Byleth is lying with her lower half in the river, soaked through. The Sublime Creator Sword is clutched in her hand. Her grip is loose around its hilt, but the sword is still glowing.

Byleth sits up and her head aches. Her muscles are sore and she's cold. She looks around. The ruins of the village at the foot of the monastery are abandoned and have fallen to ruin. The scenario is vividly familiar, but also different.

_Sothis_, she calls into her mind. _Did you wake me again?_

There is no response.

Byleth pushes herself to her feet and leans on the sword to balance herself. She squints up at the sun where it is half-hidden by clouds and frowns. It's mid to late afternoon, if her prediction is correct, but she has no idea _when_ it is. She feels a cold uncertainty creep through her bones.

What happens if she woke too early? Or, worse, if she woke too late?

"Faith," she whispers to herself. "I must have faith that this is the right time."

Despite every aching muscle in her body, she turns towards the looming, half-destroyed monastery above her. She takes a deep breath and soldiers towards it. Her body protests the march with every step and she stumbles more than a few times. Her blade becomes more of a crutch than a weapon as she treks up the path.

The walk is familiar but different. Last time, there had been bodies of bandits lining her path all the way to the top of the Goddess Tower due to Dimitri's rage and carelessness. The paths are clear this time and it makes her uneasy. Perhaps the Golden Deer had other things to worry about than to show up at a place in complete disarray five years after their professor's disappearance.

She ascends the steps slowly this time. Her fingers trace gouges in the stone and she can only hope that she is on time. She memorizes the moment and compares it to the one in her head and she knows that it is the same, but it feels just slightly wrong at the same time.

When she reaches the top, she sees him. He's bathed in sunlight, staring out over the rest of the monastery. He looks different–older and more gathered–but she recognizes this Claude too. This is the Claude who tried to kill Dimitri at Gronder Field. This is the Claude who, when out of options, forfeited the whole Alliance and placed his trust in a former teacher and a formerly-mad prince.

Surprise writes itself across his face as he sees her. Then he smiles and it's the same troublemaker smile she was so familiar with from their time at the academy. The smile drops quickly enough as he walks towards her.

"Hey Teach," he says softly. His eyes are still the same sharp green that she remembers. They track across her face–searching and seeking. "You overslept."

The phrase is a joke, but the fear in her catches on the underlying accusation and she steps back. Her brow furrows and she tightens her posture to something less familiar. Claude seems surprised by her reaction and he steps forward, following her lead.

"My friend, you didn't really think I'd given up on waiting for you, did you?" he asks. "There was something you said to Dimitri and me before we went into that battle. It stuck with me and I couldn't get rid of it. You told us that people would need us and that we would see each other again."

"Claude," Byleth says, shifting her weight.

He studies her again. It's less familiar this time and more assessing. "Where have you been, Teach? It's been five years."

"I've been asleep," she says. The explanation feels flimsy in her mouth and the frustration that paints itself across her former student's face makes her wish she had more answers for him.

"Five years? You can't expect me to believe that. Except," he pauses, brow furrowed. "What you said to us back then. You knew this was going to happen."

It's not a question. It's an observation. Byleth bites her lip and her reaction is all Claude needs to confirm his suspicions. Uncharacteristic surprise takes over his expression and he spins away from her, running his hands through his hair.

"You knew what was going to happen." He says it again like he still can't believe it and Byleth feels guilt prickle at her. "That's why you wanted to know if we would keep our promise and it's why you knew I would be here." He turns back to her and the friendliness in his face is gone. "How did you know I would be here?"

Byleth's knees give out and she collapses. Claude doesn't hesitate as he breaks for her side, gripping her arms and pulling her into a more comfortable sitting position. He still looks uncertain, but seeing her collapse has made him less angry. Perhaps the regret in her eyes also has some part to play.

"Because last time Dimitri was here," Byleth says. "Because last time I went to sleep I awoke and I found him here and five years had past and everything had changed."

"Last time?" Claude echoes, surprised.

She tells him _everything_. He listens stiffly, but he doesn't move away from her. The admission that he was her second choice doesn't seem to phase him, but she is throwing an awful lot of information at him so maybe there's too much to be phased by. When she's done her cheeks are wet with tears and her breaths are shorter.

"You knew she was the Flame Emperor the whole time. You didn't tell anyone?" he asks.

Byleth nods. "I had hoped that I might change something enough that she didn't find it necessary, but I was wrong."

"That's why you were so shocked by what she said in the Holy Mausoleum; why it was so surprising that it was all in motion before you arrived."

She nods again. "I'm sorry, Claude. I thought about telling you everything back then, but I was sure you would have thought I'd completely lost my mind."

He shakes his head. "No, you were right. I wouldn't have believed you. I barely believed you about Jeralt and the goddess the first time. I'm sorry, Teach."

Byleth smiles sadly. "I know and it's not important right now." She looks him in the eye. "Tell me what has happened."

His expression tightened and that's all it takes for her to know and something inside of her breaks. She turns away and closes her eyes. Hot tears burn and she tries not to cry because it has always been a possibility, but she had hoped desperately that it wouldn't be true.

"Dimitri is dead," Claude says carefully. "The Kingdom fell with Fhirdiad and his death. There's been a bit of chaos in Gautier and Fraldarius territory, but they're leaderless. The Alliance is divided. House Ordelia and House Gloucester are supporting Edelgard while House Goneril, House Daphnel, and House Riegan oppose her."

Byleth looks around the Goddess Tower. The structure has decayed from the polished image of devotion it used to be. "Rhea is missing," Byleth surmises. "The Knights are looking for her, but they're not here at the moment."

Claude nods. "No one has seen her since the battle, just like you."

Byleth pulls away from Claude's touch and pushes herself up to her feet. "We should get down to the village."

Claude stands after her and frowns. "Teach, you've been asleep for five years. Going down there right now would definitely mean getting in a fight we can't win."

Byleth gives Claude a tiny smirk. "Five years, right? I promise I'm still sharp and I promise that we will win that fight."

He narrows his eyes, but Byleth knows he will never back down from a challenge.

* * *

_Alive, alive, alive_, her mind sings as her Deer arrive. Marianne and Hilda and Raphael and Leonie and Ignatz and Lysithea and even Lorenz. They swing into battle seamlessly and they start to drive the thieves away.

A part of Byleth had known they would be here. Her Deer were loyal to a fault and, as Claude put it, a bunch of sentimental fools. Not one of them would have missed an opportunity to reunite as a class, even if there was no Millennium Festival.

Claude whoops when he sees them arrive. His wyvern–_that's new, Byleth notes internally_–and Hilda's swoop around each other. Leonie and Lorenz are mounted and maneuver quickly around the ruins. Lorenz even gives Marianne a lift, bringing the healer to Hilda's side when the now-flying noble needs assistance. Ignatz has a sword now, but he still favours his bow. His draw has changed too and his shots are more deadly and precise. Raphael bashes through everything without hardly shaking at the blows he receives. Lysithea calls dark magic and blasts down any armoured thieves.

Byleth wants to celebrate, but then she sees the assassin sneaking through the shadows towards Lysithea. Her voice catches in her throat and there's nothing she can do as the rogue slips forward, sword in hand, to attack. Suddenly, there's a crack and a loud gust of wind. The thief flies back and Lysithea turns in time to see him. Dark spikes spring up at a wave of her hand and then both she and Byleth are looking for her saviour.

Annette stands fifteen feet away, drawing up another wind rune, and she looks exactly like the war-hardened woman Byleth remembers. Byleth's breath catches in her chest. Across the battlefield, the Blue Lions emerge, each of them vicious and unrelenting. Mercedes joins with Marianne to unleash a blinding blast of white magic. Felix cuts down anyone who dares to get too close to Leonie. Ingrid covers Hilda's back in the sky. Sylvain spins his lance to use the extra range to take out a mage that gets too close to Raphael.

Byleth stands dumbly, rooted in place, as her students–current and former–unite to drive back the thieves with vicious efficiency. When it's done, they gather around her and Byleth doesn't know what to say.

Her Golden Deer are warm and there are hugs and squeezed hands and happy smiles. Her Blue Lions look more uncomfortable, but Byleth still can't believe that they are _here and alive_. She counts them–_counts again_–and the celebration in her mind ceases instantly.

"Ashe, Dedue, where are they?" she asks, turning to Ingrid.

Ingrid shakes her head. "No one has seen Dedue since Dimitri," she trails off, uncomfortable at the thought of the execution of her childhood friend.

"And Ashe was last seen with the Western Church," Annette answers. She looks tired and sad at the statement. "He went to try to get information on Lonato and none of us have heard from him since."

Byleth takes a deep breath. It makes sense. Last time, Dedue had been presumed dead while rescuing Dimitri so maybe he was just laying low in Duscur if the prince was really dead. To have lost Ashe stings, but she understands. She studies the rest of the Blue Lions.

"What are you all doing here?" she asks finally. The Deer shift behind her, appraising and wondering all the same.

Sylvain answers: "Well, Professor, you said you had hoped to see us all for the Millennium Festival, so I guess we all just took a chance." He gives Ingrid and Felix a meaningful look and Byleth recalls that the trio of them had previously reunited to search for Dimitri. She wonders if they have done the same this time.

"Right, well, we're all here now, so we might as well head back to the monastery," Claude interrupts.

Byleth nods slowly, shaking her head out of a fog of memories. "Yes. We have a lot to discuss."

* * *

/ _guardian moon_ /

Three factions unite under a banner bearing the Crest of Flames to protect the monastery. The former Blue Lions fight for the Kingdom they have lost. The Knights of Seiros fight for the church itself and for the missing archbishop. The former Golden Deer fight for the Alliance that has barely not crumbled yet.

Byleth fights because it is what she knows. She cuts down Imperial soldiers until she feels numb. Her Nosferatu burns across Randolph as he falls to the ground, dead. Byleth stands above him, ears ringing and veins burning.

She faintly hears the flap of wings behind her. Hands grab her arms and forcibly turn her away from the dead enemy commander. Byleth finds herself staring into Claude's face. The Alliance leader looks concerned and Byleth's trance breaks. She shakes her head and the ringing in her ears vanishes.

"Teach?" Claude asks.

Byleth nods to him, forcing a smile. "I'm good. Let's get back to the monastery."

She walks away and her mind recalls something Sothis had said to her before she went to sleep:

"_Why are you still lying to him?_"

* * *

/ _pegasus moon_ /

The moment she sees Ashe amongst the Kingdom forces opposing them, all strategy leaves her head immediately. Byleth sprints over fiery craters to get in range of him. She swings her Levin sword and cuts three of his arrows out of the air as she gets close to him.

Ashe fumbles to reload and Byleth closes the distance. "Ashe!" she yells to him.

His head snaps up and he recognizes her. "Professor?"

"Please, don't do this," she begs. "The other Blue Lions are here. Come with us," she pleads. She wants him to be Ashe, the loyal and chivalrous young man she remembers. The Ashe with a bright smile and winning touch in the kitchen that can always make anyone smile.

Ashe swallows hard and she sees the pain on his face. He knocks an arrow and Byleth grips her sword more tightly, shaking her head. He takes aim, raising his bow, and lets the arrow fly. It whistles past her ear as he misses her. There's a pained cry behind her and Byleth turns to see the shot embedded in the flank of an Imperial pegasus rider. She turns back to Ashe, hopeful, and he nods.

"I'm sorry I wasn't with you from the start," he yells to her over the roar of combat and the bubbling of lava around them.

Byleth lets out the breath she wasn't aware she was holding. "Shoot like that and I don't think you'll have many more apologies to be making."

* * *

Judith compliments the way the three different groups seem to work together as one. Claude transfers the praise to her, citing her leadership as the unifying trait. Then Judith tells them about Rhea.

Catherine and Seteth go tense immediately and Byleth feels cold all over despite the suffocating heat of Ailell. She had almost forgotten about the church's boundless devotion to Rhea. The idea of seeing the archbishop again makes Byleth feel sick and she's not sure why. She has so many unanswered questions about her parents and about Sothis. Reading Jeralt's diary for a second time has only made her more confused and she has no intention of letting Rhea get off without answering her questions this time.

Honestly, Byleth had completely forgotten about Rhea last time as well. The Knights had always been transparent in their goal, but the Kingdom was entirely devoted to destroying Edelgard and the Empire so it was easier to focus on that. It made her miss Sothis less after she had merged with the goddess. Now, thinking of the archbishop and the goddess makes her ache for the lilting, childlike voice that she had grown used to in her head.

Displeasure must show on her face because Claude steps forward and takes her by the elbow, turning her away from the conversation as the army makes preparations to return to the monastery.

"Are you alright, Teach? As soon as Judith mentioned Rhea you got this look like you'd just eaten something really sour."

Byleth gave a short laugh. "I didn't mean to, it just dawned on me that I'd almost forgotten about her. She was never high on my priority list last time and I never even found out if Edelgard had kept her alive after all these years. My father never trusted her after my mother's death as I'm sure you remember, so it makes me wonder if she's the reason I am like I am at all."

"Why you were connected with the goddess, you mean?"

Byleth nods. "Yes." She pauses, taking a moment to probe around in her head, searching for any of the warmth Sothis used to hold. There is nothing. "As weird as it is, I feel weird without her in my head."

Claude laughs lightly. "I mean, you shared that space for a significant amount of time. Maybe it just means you're getting more time to feel like yourself, finally."

Byleth considers his words. "Maybe," she consents. "Either way, I have a lot of questions for Rhea that I'm not letting her avoid."

"I'm with you on that one, Teach."

* * *

/ _lone moon_ /

A week before they carry out their assault on the Great Bridge of Myrddin, Byleth checks in with her former students. The tension between the Kingdom natives and the Alliance natives seems to have faded almost entirely and more often than not Byleth finds her students in small groups that cross territory lines.

Annette and Lysithea put their heads together in the library and work through spell after spell with hardly a break. Mercedes keeps them company sometimes, but the older girl is often happier in the Cathedral keeping Ignatz company as he draws or paints.

Raphael, Leonie, and Felix train relentlessly. Their vastly varied styles from axe and brawling to bow and lance to sword and black magic creates some entertaining chaos, but it keeps them all well-balanced. Ashe trains with them sometimes, but he spends a lot more of his time in the Dining Hall preparing meals. Byleth asks him about it and he mentions that he still feels a bit bad that he started the fight on the wrong side at Ailell.

Hilda and Ingrid do aerial patrols together and Sylvain, Marianne, and Lorenz care for the horses and muck out the stables. Sometimes Hilda will bat her eyes at Lorenz or Sylvain and get them to do something particularly undesirable for her, but it makes Marianne hide a smile behind her hand and gives Ingrid something else to poke fun at Sylvain for so Byleth doesn't stop her.

Claude plots. He paces the Cardinals' Room and moves figures across battle maps. He studies schematics of the bridge and looks for every loophole he can find. He writes letters to his retainer and consults with Judith and Seteth and Lorenz and Byleth. He fills scroll after scroll with plans and tears them all apart. Byleth spends one afternoon sitting with him, but the chaos in which he works drives her up the wall until she has to excuse herself for some fresh air.

Claude enters the common room five minutes after her, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry. I'm stuck on this one choke point and it's been driving me crazy for several days."

Byleth waves a hand dismissively. "You'll get it. Take a break and breathe, Claude."

He flops entirely ungracefully onto one of the settees in the room and sighs again. "How did you take it last time?"

Byleth sits next to him and raises a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. "You finally figured out you could ask me, huh?"

He shrugs. "I want to do this my way. This is my insurance that my idea will work."

"With your help, actually. You distracted Count Gloucester in the north with Judith and we stormed the bridge while Alliance reinforcements were busy, taking on just the Empire. Of course, reinforcements arrived anyways because Lorenz was always too good at picking out when you were scheming."

Claude held up a hand, cutting her off. "Lorenz fought with the Empire?"

Byleth bites her lip. "Yes. Although I honestly think he only did it so that the Empire didn't just straight up invade Gloucester territory. When I faced him on the battlefield I managed to talk him down and he retreated." Images of Ferdinand flash in her mind suddenly and she frowns.

"Teach?" Claude questions.

"Dimitri killed Ferdinand. He'll be one of the generals stationed at the bridge. I wanted to try to get through to him, but Dimitri got to him first." She shakes her head and closes her eyes. "It wasn't pretty."

Claude is quiet for a moment and when her eyes open she sees that he looks like he's thinking hard and dismantling something in his head. "If I got you to him, could you talk him down?"

Byleth raises her eyebrows. "Claude, I just told you I didn't get through to him last time."

"I'm not talking about last time. I'm asking you if you think you can talk him down."

"Maybe," she consents. "If he's the same Ferdinand I faced last time, I'm not quite sure. But, I can try."

Claude stands up. There's a sharp clarity to his expression and his eyes twinkle. "I'll get you to him, I promise. Just be ready for me."

He starts out of the room and Byleth calls out to him.

"Claude!" He stops and looks back at her. Byleth frowns. "Don't base everything off of that."

He gives her a glimpse of his signature scheming smile. "Better practice your recruitment speech, Teach."

* * *

As the assault begins, Byleth isn't sure what to expect. She certainly isn't expecting Claude to basically drop out of the sky on his wyvern to flatten the two soldiers she had been facing off against. She spins the Sublime Creator Sword in her hand and stares him down. Claude holds out a hand to her, tucking his bow over his back.

His earlier words ring in her head and Byleth grabs his hand and lets him pull her up onto the wyvern. He takes off quickly, navigating through the chaotic skies past Hilda and Ingrid and Cyril to get to the corner of the fortress where Ferdinand is fighting. He swoops down close to the ground and Byleth takes the opportunity she is given.

She leaps from the wyvern and tucks and rolls as she hits the ground hard. Her shoulders ache from the impact, but she comes up slashing and takes out the rear legs of Ferdinand's mount. The horse screams in pain and throws the noble.

Ferdinand didn't see her coming and isn't expecting to be thrown so he hits the ground hard. Byleth sprints to him and lowers her blade against his throat. Ferdinand's eyes lock on hers and widen in surprise.

"Professor?"

"Ferdinand, I don't have to do this," she tells him. "Edelgard ruined your father and your family and she's poisoning the Empire."

Ferdinand's eyes flash defiantly and for a moment she is afraid of what he may make her do. "I am Ferdinand von Aegir. I fight for the Empire."

Byleth withdraws her sword and looks at him pityingly. "Even if Edelgard has set you up to die without a shred of remorse? Even if Edelgard has so systematically dismantled the Aegir name there is nothing left?" His resolve wavers and she presses forward. "Stand with me, Ferdinand and we will fight for the real Empire and we will save it."

She extends a hand to him. Ferdinand hesitates, but after a moment he reaches up to grab it. She pulls him to his feet and he nods to her. From there, Byleth almost misses what happens. One moment Ferdinand is standing at her side and the next moment he is shoving her to the side and there's a terrible crash of lightning and she smells burning flesh.

Byleth turns and throws her hand out, sending a wave of fire behind her. Acheron calls an arcane shield to block it, but he's smirking. Ferdinand lies crumpled on the ground, his armour smoking from the shock of the lightning that had struck him.

"Stand a traitor, die a traitor!" Acheron sneers.

Byleth's vision goes white and tugs on the cord in her stomach. Time winds back and she's staring down at Ferdinand with her hand extended. He's reaching for it when she pulls back and turns to see Acheron approaching. She sends white magic after him and Acheron deflects it away. She snaps the Sublime Creator Sword and lashes it out.

Acheron calls lightning and Byleth rolls, avoiding it. She strikes with her sword and Acheron falls. She turns back to Ferdinand to see him crumpled on the ground again. Pain sears in her chest.

"No, no, no, no!" she cries out, rushing forward.

Ferdinand's armour is smoking again. His eyes are blank, staring up at the clear blue sky. His hair is burnt and mussed and his chest is still. Byleth curls her hands until her fingernails cut into her palms. It should have saved him.

She tries to call on the Divine Pulse again, but her stomach turns and she's nearly sick. She rocks back from Ferdinand's body and stares at it blankly. The sound of the fighting around her fades and the battle starts to wind down with two of the commanders slain. Sylvain takes out Ladislava soon after.

Byleth stays kneeling on the stone staring at her slain student. Her student that she had gotten through to. Her student that was ready to join her. Her student who died a brutal death in every life she had seen him in.

Claude lands next to her, but Byleth is still numb.

* * *

/ _great tree moon_ /

Byleth likes Derdriu. What she doesn't enjoy as much is the stubborn quarrelling of the Alliance Lords. When Claude had originally asked her to attend the Roundtable Conference with him, Byleth had been glad to leave the monastery for a few days.

The Roundtable is exhausting. The lords are frustratingly stubborn and selfish and none of them are too willing to give up troops to Claude's main forces when they claim they should be protecting their borders. Byleth herself isn't half the charming orator that Claude is, but she can see that even his patience is wearing thin.

By the second day, they have managed to convince most of the Lords to side with them. House Ordelia tries to hold out against them, but with Daphnel, Goneril, and even Gloucester voting in favour of House Riegan, their power is slipping. House Edmund tries to lessen their own commitment and then all of the lords suddenly want to be sending fewer troops.

It's _exhausting_.

Currently, Byleth is alone in the war room organizing maps of Empire territory and of Fort Merceus where the Empire is said to be stockpiling troops. Claude had disappeared several hours earlier with the rest of the nobles for dinner. Byleth had been invited, but she had wanted a break from the chaos. Citing the need for privacy to pray, she requested a meal be brought to her instead.

As the current, though unwilling, face of the Church of Seiros, none of the lords dared to argue with her request. Her meal had been sent up and she had been left alone. Still, the isolation felt unnerving and she was starting to tire of staring at maps and army figures and the mixture of hers and Claude's handwriting.

Just as she's folding up the last few maps, the door to the room cracks open. Byleth looks over her shoulder and sees Claude reenter. He has shed much of the regalia he has been parading around over the last two days and has exchanged it for a loose cream-coloured linen shirt and brown pants.

Byleth relaxes when she sees him. "Hi," she greets.

Claude smiles briefly. "Hi," he replies. "What are you still doing here? It's late."

Byleth waves him off. "I'm finished now. I was just about to head back to my room. How was dinner?"

Claude sighs and rubs his temples. "Exhausting. Every second I spend with these nobles is exhausting. Nothing here is simple as it is at home. There at least if someone disagrees with you they tell it straight to your face, often accompanied by a poisoned blade or two."

Byleth studies him for a moment. Maybe he's tired or distracted, but it is unlike him to let something so telling slip about his previous life before he was announced as Riegan heir. In telling him about Sothis and Dimitri and her first attempt, Byleth knows she has created a line of trust between them that he does not have with anyone else. As a result, she knows more about him than most people do. In all the time they've spent together, Byleth has pieced together that he's definitely not from Fódlan.

After she doesn't say anything else, Claude continues, "May I escort you back to your room, Teach?"

The nickname feels strange in this place. Between two adults, one of whom is heir to an entire region (Claude) and the other who has not aged in five years (Byleth). Still, the familiarity and the intent behind it makes her feel warm inside, so she nods.

They walk in relative silence back to Byleth's quarters. She's staying near enough to Claude that he's not seriously inconveniencing himself by walking her back, but the escort feels unnecessary to her. He waves her off.

"We've barely had a moment alone since coming here," he points out.

Byleth nods. "I hadn't even realized. I didn't know what to expect from this trip, but this certainly isn't what I was thinking."

Claude chuckles. "You could have saved me from a few particularly weak and embarrassing arguments in front of Holst and Judith today, you know. With your whole time-changing thing and everything."

Byleth rolls her eyes and shoves him. Claude rocks onto his heels and tips back towards her in response, laughing. He slings an arm over her shoulders and she feels the warmth that radiates from his body in waves.

Her stomach twists as she smiles at Claude's antics. Here in Derdriu with him, she feels safer and calmer than she has felt in a long, long time. Their every interaction feels genuine and real and since he knows the truth, she's not afraid of being in the moment with him.

Her moment of distraction causes her foot to catch on one of the expensive carpets and she trips, nearly dragging Claude down with her. Instead, they stumble into the wall together and Claude's full body collides with hers. He catches himself a little, but still ends up landing one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder.

He's closer now–_much closer_–and Byleth can smell the wine he must have consumed with dinner and the stronger, familiar scent of pine that clings to him. She can see the darker green rings in his eyes and the tension in his neck as he swallows slowly. The playful smile has vanished and he looks a little nervous. His pulse hums in his neck and Byleth stops thinking.

She slides a hand up, across his shoulder and up over his jaw so it rests along the side of his face. Claude leans down with no resistance and lets his own hand glide from her shoulder to cradle the back of her head, fingers winding through her hair. There's a moment where it looks like he has given in to her, but then something clicks and he huffs out a heavy breath.

He presses their foreheads together and exhales. "Byleth," his voice is low and cautionary.

Byleth leans back a little, hurt prickling across her skin. "Claude," she replies, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"I think you're getting the wrong idea here, my friend," Claude says gently. Byleth tenses and prepares to throw all of her defences up. "I have no intention of playing second fiddle to His Royal Highness in anything, but _this_ especially."

Claude's eyes are burning green. The hand at the back of her head plays lightly with her hair and the touch feels gentle. Byleth feels warm all over, but there's a chill in her chest at his words.

"Second fiddle?" she questions.

A sadder smirk turns up the corners of Claude's lips. "Teach, I had an inkling back at the academy, but when you told me everything, it clicked. You're in love with Dimitri."

He isn't wrong. Byleth knows that even though she didn't lead Dimitri's house this time, a part of her soul aches for him. She misses the young, idealistic prince and the cracked, determined young man he became.

Byleth closes her eyes. "Dimitri is dead, Claude. You're the one who told me that."

"He lived last time, didn't he? Same scenario."

"Last time was different," she argues.

"I disagree. Maybe you led his house, but you were still his favourite professor this time. You were one of the only people who he trusted completely and I don't think that changed," Claude says.

Despite the words coming out of his mouth, he hasn't moved away from her and he hasn't moved his hands back to safer, more platonic territory.

"Maybe I'm different," Byleth says before she realizes what the words truly mean.

Claude pauses. Byleth opens her eyes and sees Claude's face. He looks doubtful, but he can't hide the spark of hope in his eyes. Byleth twists her hand along his jaw, feeling the scratch of his half-beard along her palm.

"Byleth," he murmurs. "You still love him."

She takes the plunge. "And if I love you too?" The admission comes as a surprise to herself, but the warmth seeping through all of her bones due to Claude's close proximity assures her that it is the truth.

He laughs breathily. "Then I suppose I have an uphill battle ahead of me."

Byleth is done talking. Her other hand lands on Claude's shoulder. She pulls him down and kisses him firmly. Claude's hand tightens in her hair and the hand on her waist pulls her tighter against himself as he kisses her harder.

The kiss is like a fire. Claude is warm and his lips taste like wine and the lingering spices from whatever he had eaten for dinner. Byleth presses against him and slides her hands into his hair, wrapping her fingers around dark curls.

Claude breaks the kiss to groan softly. He tilts his head and presses a kiss to Byleth's cheekbone and then another at the top of her jaw. He pauses for a moment, resting the side of his head against hers. His breath is warm and makes her feel dizzy.

"If I don't let you go now, I won't be able to," he breathes.

"If I asked you not to let go?" Byleth replies. Her voice is breathy and her chest swells against him as she takes deep breaths.

Claude slides his head back so they're making eye contact. Byleth drops her hands to the centre of his chest where her fingers fiddle with the laces holding his shirt together—not undoing them yet, just making it clear she could.

"Byleth," he says.

She's pretty sure that her name on his lips is the sweetest sound she's ever heard. She leans forward to kiss him again. She pulls back so there is a hair's width between their lips.

"Don't let go," she whispers.

Claude doesn't hesitate. He crushes their lips together again and it's hot and hungry. He backs Byleth into the wall and cups her face with both hands. The kiss is intense and dizzying and entirely inappropriate for a hallway in his estate where anyone could happen upon them.

Claude's face dips into the crook of her neck as his lips and teeth scrape across her skin. Byleth wishes that her pulse would change so that he knew what he was doing to her. Her fingers fumble with his shirt until she has it mostly undone and her palms find warm, scarred skin.

"Claude," she gasps. "Room."

He laughs against her skin and presses a soft kiss to her collarbone. He pulls back to look at her, green eyes twinkling.

"Should I stay?" he asks.

It's the last hurdle he gives her. It's one last attempt for her body to revolt and call for Dimitri. But, just as one part of her mind aches for and misses the Kingdom's prince, the other half is drunk on Claude's warmth and adoration.

"Stay," she says.

He does.

* * *

Byleth makes it outside before she panics. As soon as she had finished speaking with Claude, Judith, and the others in the cathedral, she had headed straight for the 3rd floor of the monastery. She had ensured she was out of sight of everyone when she had started running, but she had sprinted the whole way up to the top floor of the monastery. She had stumbled into the star garden with her chest heaving. She strides to the edge of the garden and plants her arms against the railing.

There is an army marching towards Gronder Field under the banner of House Blaiddyd. _Dimitri is ALIVE_. There isn't a doubt in her mind that Dimitri is the one leading the charge down through Alliance territory towards the Empire. If he has gotten word that Edelgard could be at the Battle of Gronder Field, he will be there.

The thought of seeing him again makes her head spin. She knows what kind of man she'll come face to face with. She is afraid that this time there will be no turning him back to the light. She hadn't been there to guide him this time so she is afraid she will not be enough to guide him back to the light. Additionally, she now has to juggle the fact that all of the former Kingdom students (Dedue as the exception) were now fighting at her side under the Crest of Flames.

Byleth breathes deeply to try to calm her racing mind, but the fear is deep-rooted and cold. It doesn't help that half of her is still undeniably in love with Dimitri, but the other half is frozen in the stolen moment in Derdriu with Claude. She closes her eyes and tries to conjure an empty image in her mind.

People would be expecting her in the Cardinals' Room soon to discuss strategy and she needs to be calm. She breathes in, centring herself.

If Dimitri is marching on Enbarr, he has to have support. He likely has Gilbert and any remaining Kingdom knights. If he has come down through the north part of the Kingdom, he likely has the permission of House Galatea and probably military support from House Fraldarius and House Gautier.

She needs to speak to the Blue Lions.

Byleth spins from her position and sees Cyril standing in the doorway from the third floor, watching her awkwardly.

"Cyril," she starts.

He shakes his head. "It's okay, Professor, I won't say anything. Do you want me to get anyone?"

Byleth exhales slowly. "No, I'm alright. I just need to speak to Felix and Sylvain. Do you know where they are?"

Cyril ponders the question for a moment. "I would guess either the Blue Lion classroom or the Training Hall."

She finds them in the Blue Lion classroom. Mercedes is standing at the front of the room, staring out the window into the grassy courtyard with an uncharacteristic frown across her face. Ashe is restringing his bow at the table closest to her. He looks detached and almost a little scared.

Annette is holding Felix's hands in her lap. She looks nervous and the swordsman next to her has a blank, eerily neutral expression. Annette's hands rub over Felix's like she's trying to keep him grounded, but Byleth easily picks up that much of her tension is her own.

Ingrid is standing at the rear of the classroom, arms crossed, while Sylvain paces the length of the room. His armour clicks and clanks as he walks and he runs a hand through his hair looking irritated. Ingrid looks more pensive and she keeps glancing at Sylvain like she wants to anchor him to the spot to stop his pacing.

Ashe looks up as she enters and stands in a hurry, bumping the table loudly with his knees. "Professor!"

Byleth feels a lump in her throat. "Someone told you all," she murmurs.

Sylvain stops pacing to look at her. "House Blaiddyd. Professor, what is happening? Is the ghost of Dimitri leading an assault against us?"

Felix laughs coldly. "You haven't figured it out?"

"Felix," Annette pleads softly.

He shakes his head. "The Boar Prince himself will be leading that charge, I guarantee it." He pulls his hands away from Annette and stands up. He gives Byleth a challenging look. "My father will be there too and if Annette's father isn't I will be surprised. Do you expect us to raise arms against our own people?"

Byleth shakes her head emphatically. "I expect you all to deploy on the Empire side and to retreat any moment you feel uncomfortable or out of your depth."

"So you intend to kill the Boar then?" Felix asks.

"No," Byleth says before she can stop herself. She drops her gaze to the floor. "I could never."

"Claude would," a new voice says.

Byleth and the Lions turn to see Hilda in the doorway. She looks troubled but steps forward into the classroom.

"The moment the Kingdom army turns its attacks our direction, Claude won't hesitate. You know that, don't you, Professor?"

Byleth sighs. "That is exactly what I am afraid of."

"If Dimitri is there, let us get to him," Sylvain says firmly. "We will get him to back down."

"No," Felix says. "Sylvain, you weren't there so you haven't seen him like this." Felix looks disturbed, but he hides his discomfort behind a sneer easily enough. "There's not enough of him left to save."

With that, he hurries from the room. Ingrid lays a hand on Sylvain's arm and the pair makes eye contact before Ingrid continues on, following Felix. Sylvain huffs out a sigh and sits on a bench at a table.

"Not to be a downer, but how are you so sure that Dimitri is still alive?" Hilda asks.

Annette shifts uncomfortably. She reaches into the bag at her feet and pulls out two scrolls of parchment. "Felix's father wrote to him, requesting that he return to Fraldarius territory so that he could join in the Kingdom's revival. My father wrote to me as well, asking for me to stay far away from Empire territory in the coming months."

"There were whispers amongst the Western Church that someone interfered in Dimitri's execution and that was why everything was carried out in such a hush-hush manner," Ashe adds. "People were saying it was warriors from Duscur that stormed the capital on the day it was set for. And, well, we all know someone from Duscur who would have done anything for His Highness."

Hilda takes a deep breath. "Well, that's plenty convincing for me." She turns to Byleth. "Professor, if there is even a chance that you can get through to him, you have to try. The Kingdom could unite behind him and with the Alliance united behind Claude and the Church behind you, the war would be as good as over."

With that, Hilda spins and leaves the classroom. Byleth bites her lip and turns back to face the remaining Blue Lions.

"You knew him as well as I did," she says. "Do we have a shot?"

"I don't know, Professor," Annette admits. "He changed after he found out about Edelgard being the Flame Emperor."

Byleth nods. "I know. She knows who was responsible for Duscur," Byleth admits.

Sylvain stiffens. "What?"

"Patricia was a part of the plot herself because she wished to see Edelgard again. That betrayal cut him deeper than anything else ever could." Technically Byleth isn't sure if Dimitri knows that Patricia had been a part of the plot in this timeline, but it's close enough to the reason that he felt so betrayed by her and Byleth thinks that her Lions deserve to know this at least.

"I want you to know that whatever happens," she pauses to look each of them in the eye. "I will do everything I can to keep him alive."

The promise is the best she can do right now.

* * *

The fog that dances along the earth makes her nervous. Her hand is curled around her sword and she stands with her back straight and every sense on high alert as they approach Gronder. She has made this march before and she knows how it will end if she isn't perfect in every choice she makes.

"Byleth."

She turns. Claude is standing a few feet away from her. He's dressed for battle and his wyvern is waiting anxiously behind him. Byleth steps toward him and raises her chin.

"Claude."

They haven't had a moment alone since Derdriu and since finding out about the Kingdom's approach, Byleth hasn't wanted to try to process all of the emotions whipping through her head. Even so, there is hardly another person she would trust to have her back in a fight like the one they are about to head into.

"I will need you today, my friend," he says. "Your command will win us the day, I know it will. Don't lose sight of what's important."

The last comment makes her angry. She exhales sharply. "I know what is important. Don't forget what I told you."

She has made sure that Claude knows to avoid the hill in the centre of the field because she has no doubt that Edelgard has rigged it with explosives again. Despite his insistence on it as a strategic point, Byleth had forcefully pointed out that it isn't worth the lives that will be lost in taking it. Instead, she has directed him to head up the right side of the battle to go after where she assumes Edelgard's magic corps will be.

There's a horn that sounds, lower and brassier than anything from the Alliance. Byleth and Claude both tense.

"That's an Empire war horn," Claude murmurs. He immediately takes off for the front lines, pressing through their own soldiers.

Byleth doesn't hesitate before following him. She has almost reached him when she spots the volley of fire heading their direction. "Scatter!" she screams to the troops.

Magic rains down around them and Alliance soldiers and commanders scream and drop formation. Byleth pushes forward until she stands next to Claude. Here, at the front of the army, she can see out onto Gronder Field. Edelgard's army is in the south in perfect formation and her mages still have their hands outstretched from the initial blast.

Claude's jaw sets. His hands tighten on Failnaught and he very nearly gives the order at that moment, but he hesitates.

Byleth looks to the eastern side and she sees him.

_Dimitri is alive_, her mind whispers.

Dimitri stands at the head of his army. His expression is dead neutral. His right eye is gone. His hair is longer. Areadbhar is resting on his shoulder. He looks like the shadow of the prince that Byleth found in the goddess tower five years ago and her chest aches.

Claude lifts a hand and the Alliance archers lift their weapons into position, waiting for the command. Edelgard's forces do the same, but it is Dimitri who breaks first. The disillusioned man points his relic forth and Byleth sees the darkness consuming him emerge in full force.

The Kingdom troops charge and all hell breaks loose.

* * *

_Author's Note: Well this was supposed to cover all of Verdant Wind, but you know it kind of got away from me. Not recruiting Ferdinand was one of my biggest regrets in both of my playthroughs of the game, but I always figured he should have been swayable at the Great Bridge. Even so, I don't regret having him die here because it's a war and not everyone should survive. _

_I hope everyone is ready for the Dimitri angst in the next part. And I would apologize for the Claudeleth but, frankly, I'm not sorry for it because I married Claude in my GD route. _

_Anyways, I'm on Tumblr ( nicolewrites) so feel free to come yell at me there._


	5. v - azure wind

_v - azure wind_

* * *

/ _great tree moon_ /

"Bernadetta!" Byleth yells. She doesn't dare climb the hill in the centre because she can smell the oily scent of Edelgard's explosive trap.

Thankfully, Claude has actually listened to her and has directed the rest of the Alliance troops around the sides of the hill, focusing mostly on Empire troops over the Kingdom army. Byleth has cut her own path to the centre of the field and is desperately trying to get the attention of her former student.

Her last shout seems to have done the trick as Bernadetta swings the ballista in her direction and freezes as she realizes that Byleth is the one calling out to her. Previously, Bernie had expressed some interest in transferring to the Golden Deer house, but the transfer hadn't actually occurred before everything went down.

"Professor?" she yelps.

Byleth climbs the first few steps tentatively, holding up her hands so that Bernadetta can see she's not a threat. "This whole platform is rigged to explode. Did you know that?" Bernadetta frowns and her hands tighten on the winch of the weapon. Byleth continues her slow, methodical approach. "As soon as troops get close enough to the centre to put you in danger, Edelgard will give the order and this whole structure will go up in flames."

"She wouldn't!" Bernadetta argues defensively.

Byleth frowns. "Wouldn't she?"

The simple deflection seems to be enough that Bernie realizes exactly what kind of situation she has found herself in. Her grey-hazel eyes widen as she looks around. True to Byleth's words, the Empire troops seem to be avoiding the centre hill and Alliance troops are doing the same thing. The Kingdom, however, is pressing forward toward both the hill and the southern part of the field in a direct path towards the Empire.

Byleth holds a hand out. "Bernie?" she asks. The offer to swap sides is unspoken but definitely received as Bernadetta pulls a lever on the side of the ballista that has it groaning as it jams and becomes unusable.

Bernie gets most of the way across the hill towards Byleth when the explosion happens. There's a loud boom and a crash of flames. Byleth is thrown back, hitting the ground hard and rolling. Her cloak is smouldering faintly, parts of her skin are screaming with pain, and her ears are ringing. She groans and pushes herself up onto her hands and knees.

The hill is in flames before her. Byleth forces herself to her feet, ignoring her screaming burns and muscle pain. Her ears slowly stop ringing as the cacophony of battle returns. Byleth pumps a healing spell into herself and forces herself to approach the hill again.

"Bernadetta!" she screams.

It doesn't take her long to find Bernie as the archer had been thrown clear of the hill in a similar manner to Byleth. Bernie's eyes are closed, but she's breathing. She's badly burned and hurt and Byleth presses her hands to her former student's chest and casts Heal. It is soon enough clear that Bernadetta needs help beyond what Byleth can provide so Byleth stands, looking around wildly.

She presses two fingers against her bottom lip and whistles sharply, hoping that Marianne is near enough to hear her. Thankfully, it only takes a moment for Marianne to break through the fighting to reach her. The Holy Knight doesn't hesitate before giving Bernie a stronger Heal spell.

"Professor?" Marianne looks up after she casts the spell.

Byleth bites her lip and looks around the fighting. "Get her to our medical tent and then get back out there if you can. I need," she trails off as a flash of brown across the sky catches her eye.

_Claude, you idiot!_ she yells internally as his wyvern darts across the still flaming hill into the ranks of the Kingdom soldiers.

"Go," Marianne says firmly. There's a conviction in her voice that Byleth isn't used to hearing from the soft-spoken noble. "If you can save him, do it."

Neither of them are talking about Claude in that moment. Byleth draws her blade and pushes her way into the fray, moving toward where she saw Claude fly.

* * *

It's easy enough to follow the trail of yellow-feathered arrows and savage lance wounds through the chaos around her. Byleth avoids Kingdom soldiers where she can and disarms and wounds them when she can't. The Sublime Creator Sword is burning in her palm again and she's breathing heavily. She has to find them before they _kill each other_.

The wounded cry of a wyvern has her head snapping up. She finally spies Claude's mount just as it flails from a javelin wound in its side. She's too far to hear him from here, but she can see the way Claude thrashes to try to stay mounted, but it's not enough. He slides from the saddle in a horrible mirror of when Byleth herself had struck him down.

Byleth doesn't hesitate as she breaks for where he fell. The javelin shot had been nearly perfect and Byleth knows very few soldiers capable of landing that attack on any wyvern, much less on a talented flyer like Claude. She knows who threw the javelin.

Byleth kicks aside a Kingdom soldier and breaks into what has turned into a small ring around two fighters. Claude is on the ground, his hair half-stuck to his face and his battle attire is ripped and dirty. Dimitri stands three feet away from him with his strong shoulders hunched and his good eye narrowed sharply. Areadbhar is in his hand, pointed towards Claude's chest. Failnaught is a foot from Byleth and nearly 8 feet away from Claude whose only remaining defense is a small ornate hunting knife.

Dimitri turns his hand on the lance and prepares to strike. Byleth screams and lashes out with her blade. It cracks along the spine and snaps around the shaft of Dimitri's relic. She pulls as hard as she can and pulls his aim off just enough the Claude can roll to the left. The head of the weapon sinks into the earth instead of the Alliance leader and Claude springs back to his feet.

"Stop!" Byleth shouts. Her voice breaks on the word and she sprints forward, snapping her sword back as she places herself between her two former students. "Dimitri, stand down," she orders.

He snarls at her. "What kind of monster wears the face of the dead?" He turns Areadbhar in his grip and focuses his attention back on Claude over Byleth's shoulder. Dimitri steps right to move around her and Byleth mirrors him, staying firmly in his way.

"No monster could wear my face," she replies firmly. "Stand down."

There's a moment where a dark guilt flicks across his expression and Byleth thinks she might have a chance, but then there's a whistle over her shoulder as an arrow sails toward Dimitri. He growls and twists, knocking it aside with his lance.

Byleth's head snaps back and she sees Claude has reached Failnaught. The relic glows in his hand as he aims at Dimitri again. Byleth glares at him and steps to her left again so that Claude does not have a clear shot.

"You are not each other's enemies!" she says urgently. "Stop acting like children!"

"If we're not enemies, why did he take me down?" Claude snaps in reply.

Byleth narrows her eyes at him. There's something stiff about Claude's posture that makes his words come out decidedly petty. "He shouldn't have." She directs those words at Dimitri. "And you shouldn't be here. I told you to go after Edelgard."

Claude doesn't reply, but he knocks another arrow. "He's a danger to his soldiers and to ours, Teach. Let me take the shot."

Dimitri growls, low and angry, behind her. "One arrow will not take me down faster than I can take your head off."

"You used to be friends!" Byleth yells, frustrated. She keeps herself anchored firmly between the two of them, even as they circle, trying to get a clear shot. Claude is annoying her, so she turns her gaze back to Dimitri.

He has moved close enough to her that she can smell the musk of the leather of his armour as he towers over her. Byleth steels herself and extends her hand until her palm lies flat against Dimitri's chest. His eye drops to stare into her face. He is warm to the touch and Byleth can feel his heart beat and his chest rise and fall as he breathes.

"Dimitri," she says, much gentler. "The Blue Lions are here. They fight with us against the Empire. Can't we join in that cause and fight together?"

Surprise breaks his stoic expression as she says the Lions are here. His gaze flicks to the sky and Byleth sees what has caught his attention: Ingrid is leading her Alliance Pegasus Corps nearby. Over the clash of battle, when she listens for it, she can hear Annette and Mercedes calling commands for their spells and for Sylvain giving orders to his mounted units.

Dimitri tenses and she knows that he has realized all his old classmates are here and that he has led an army into battle to oppose them. Unfortunately, in her attempts to appeal to Dimitri, she has momentarily forgotten about Claude, but Claude hasn't forgotten about them.

An arrow sinks into Dimitri's left shoulder. The Kingdom Prince snarls and rips it out. Byleth's moment is shattered and Dimitri is back to rage and fury as he turns to face down Claude again. Byleth wants to scream in frustration.

"I told you that you would not be able to take me down so easily," Dimitri says. His voice is low and dangerous and a promise of retaliation.

Byleth looks at Claude. He looks surprisingly smug as he tilts his head to the left, spinning another arrow across his knuckles. "Are you sure?" he taunts.

Dimitri steps toward Claude and falters. His body seizes and buckles. Byleth lunges and catches him around the chest. Dimitri is broad and heavy and the weight of him drags her down into the mud. With trembling hands, Byleth rolls Dimitri onto his back and tries to search for a pulse. She lifts him so his upper body rests against her legs.

"I didn't kill him," Claude says. The Alliance leader looks down at Byleth and Dimitri, his expression mostly neutral, but a little displeased. He holds up an empty vial so Byleth can see. "It's a mild neurotoxin that is designed to shut his system down just enough to knock him out for a couple hours. It'll be like waking up with a hangover," Claude explains.

Byleth sighs slowly and brushes aside a few strands of Dimitri's hair. "I could have handled him," she says. "I could have gotten through to him."

Claude's wyvern screeches above him as it finally returns to its rider. Claude kneels on Dimitri's other side, across from her. His gloved hand comes up to cup her face. Byleth sees the worry and guilt in his expression as he holds her gaze for a moment before he leans away, taking his gentle touch with him.

"I couldn't risk that he would hurt you."

Before Byleth can respond, the low wail of an Empire war horn catches both of their attention as the Empire calls for a full retreat. Claude's lips twitch into a smirk.

"I guess Hilda, Ashe, and Lorenz did their job and took down Her Imperial Highness in my stead."

"Is she dead then?" Byleth asks hesitantly.

Claude shakes his head. He glances down at Dimitri's unmoving form. "I suspect just injured enough that she knows this is a battle she won't win. She'll retreat to Enbarr to recover."

"Your Highness!" a gruff voice calls.

Byleth's head snaps up and she turns to see Dedue in his full plate armour pushing through soldiers to reach them. He stalls several feet back when he recognizes Byleth and Claude kneeling over Dimitri's body. Dedue's hand reaches for the axe draped across his back, but Byleth holds a hand up.

"Dedue, wait! We do not need to be enemies here. Come back to Garreg Mach with us and let us unite against the Empire."

Dimitri's vassal looks troubled as his gaze fixes on Dimitri. "He is alive?"

"Yes," Claude affirms.

Dedue drops his hand away from his axe. "I have seen many of the other Blue Lions here," he admits. "Do they fight with you?"

Byleth smiles and nods. "The whole class."

"Professor!" another voice calls.

Byleth turns and sees Sylvain and Felix pushing through the mix of confused Kingdom and Alliance soldiers surrounding them. Sylvain's horse is nowhere to be seen, but both Kingdom natives seem wholly fixed on the fact that Dimitri is lying in the mud. Another figure pushes through behind them and Byleth is happy to see Rodrigue Fraldarius emerge from behind his son.

He eyes Claude suspiciously, but Byleth gathers that Felix and Sylvain have given him enough information to halt the fighting. "Shall we head somewhere where it is more appropriate for us to speak?" he asks.

* * *

/ _harpstring moon_ /

After she meets with Rodrigue, Gilbert, Seteth, Claude and the others, Byleth goes looking for Dimitri. Dedue directs her towards the cathedral and Byleth isn't surprised by this. The cathedral was where he used to sequester himself.

In the aftermath of Gronder, Rodrigue has assumed temporary leadership of the Kingdom forces, especially since many of them come from Fraldarius territory in the first place. Most of the Kingdom has had no quarrel in joining with the Alliance and the Church. Byleth credits much of this assimilation to the former Blue Lions students. They have been instrumental in ensuring both groups get along.

As she walks to the cathedral, Byleth ponders the differences she has already seen this time. Felix tolerates his father's presence, Annette seems less inclined to forgive her father, Rodrigue has lived through the Battle at Gronder Field, Dedue was never gone for five years, and Claude's schemes seem to be working in Byleth's favour as the joint armies plan the next stages of their assault on Imperial territory.

The cathedral is almost completely empty at this time in the evening since most people are either in the dining hall or have retired to their rooms. Byleth's shoes click on the marble floor as she crosses the room. Dimitri is easy enough to spot as soon as she enters. He stands as a lone, looming figure before the rubble where the statue of the goddess used to stand.

"Dimitri," Byleth says quietly as she approaches him.

"Leave," he grunts in response.

She frowns. "I am not going to do that." She expects him to ignore her presence and keep staring blankly like a haunted man.

Instead, he turns toward her, his face grave and troubled. "Then perhaps you'll tell me, Professor, why I keep dreaming of slaughtered men and someone taking a knife that was meant for me."

Surprise washes over Byleth like a wave. Rodrigue had taken the blade for Dimitri last time, but this time there had been no angry Fleche to make an attempt on Dimitri's life. "What?" she asks.

Dimitri clicks his tongue against his teeth and turns away from her. "You've haunted me for five years and yet here you are, aligned with someone else."

"Dimitri, who takes the knife for you?" Byleth presses.

He pauses as if he's unsure if he truly wishes to share his dreams with her. "Rodrigue," he admits.

Byleth inhales sharply. "Is Dedue dead too? Or gone, or whatever. The Lions are fighting with you against the Empire and the Alliance. And I am fighting with you."

Dimitri turns back to her. His gaze is sharper and more defensive now. "Get out of my head," he growls.

_How can he remember something that never happened?_ Byleth murmurs to the hollow part of her chest. _Sothis, please! I need you_.

As always, the goddess is silent and absent. Dimitri is still staring at her like he's about to reach out and snap half the bones in her body. Byleth grounds herself and reaches up to grasp his face. He tries to flinch away from her touch, but Byleth forces him to look at her.

"Dimitri, listen to me. You are not a vessel for the dead." She swallows roughly and looks him in the eye, trying to steel her expression. "You cannot live only to avenge and carry the wishes of people who are no longer with us."

Dimitri frowns, but he doesn't attempt to pull away from her again. "What do you know of the dead and their purpose in my life?"

Byleth closes her eyes. _Sothis, if I have done anything to deserve to borrow your power, let it be for this. Let me show him_.

She conjures the image of Rodrigue in Dimitri's arms at Gronder Field. She thinks of Dimitri breaking down in the stables and the words they exchanged that night. She thinks of watching him as a king as he stared out at his people in Fhirdiad. She thinks of Dedue and the other Blue Lions celebrating in the dining hall as she and Dimitri made timid eye contact across the table the night after they took Fort Merceus. She projects the image of the two of them facing down what was left of Edelgard in Enbarr.

Dimitri shudders against her light touch and Byleth feels warm all over. She opens her eyes and sees that she is glowing from the inside out. Her veins are singing with power and she feels a connection to the other life sizzling inside her memories. Dimitri lowers his head until his forehead presses against hers. He breathes deeply and slowly, his good eye closing as he processes.

"What are these images? How can you see this?"

Byleth doesn't know how to respond. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply. Neither of them dares to move. They stand together in the cathedral, Byleth's hands on his face and their foreheads angled together. The position must cause his shoulders to ache, but he utters no protests.

"I am a blood-stained monster. How can there be forgiveness for me in this life?" he asks quietly.

Byleth opens her eyes to find him watching her. "Our forgiveness is not what you need. You must forgive yourself."

"I cannot do that."

"Why?"

His brow creases. "You saw me cut down those soldiers without an ounce of regret. I am a beast that has been leading good men to the slaughter for five years, Professor."

"Those men were not following a beast into battle. They were following the man they want to be their king. You need to live for yourself, Dimitri, not those ghosts that cling to you."

There's a ringing clang through the cathedral as Areadbhar drops to the floor, leaving Dimitri weaponless. He shifts his hands up and touches hers where they sit on his face. "Those images you showed me, are they real?"

Byleth wets her lips nervously. "Not all of them," she says. "But we can change that."

"Your hands are warm, Professor." The admission is startling similar to the words he spoke to her last time. They come as a low, quiet rumble from his chest.

The warmth and power coursing through her body have faded so it is not the divine power he feels, but rather the warmth of the touch of another person.

"Come back to me," she whispers. She slides her hands from his face to his shoulders and applies the lightest pressure that she can.

Dimitri buckles under her touch, shifting so that his arms slide to her waist and his face presses against her shoulder. Byleth holds him and says nothing more.

* * *

After his apologies are made, Dimitri asserts his desire to march for Fhirdiad. Rodrigue, Gilbert, and the Kingdom lords seem pleased with this decision, but Claude frowns and Seteth looks nonplussed.

"Fhirdiad?" Claude asks. He leans forward, pressing his hands against the table where the maps of Fort Merceus and Imperial territories are spread. "If we turn and head back now then by the time we attempt to take Merceus, Edelgard will have had time to recover from Gronder. Our only shot at the fortress is if we take it as soon as possible."

Dimitri squares his shoulders. "Claude, you and I have brought my friends and my subjects into this war. I intend to retake my capital with or without your support. The uniting of our troops at Gronder will have damaged the Empire more than you think. She will need more than just a month to refortify her front line. Taking Fhirdiad back removes her power over the Kingdom, further cuts down her forces, and gives us a moral advantage we desperately need."

Dimitri's words seem to resonate with most of the people at the table as there are nods and murmurs of assent to the plan. Claude and Dimitri stare each other down for a long moment before Claude gives a frustrated sigh.

"Fine," he mutters. "But, I'm not planning this assault. I don't know your capital and I am going to be busy revising our plans for Merceus."

With that, Claude pivots sharply and walks out of the Cardinals' Room. Hilda rises from her seat to head after him, but Byleth holds up a hand.

"Stay and talk about Fhirdiad, I'll deal with Claude."

"Shouldn't you be present to discuss command chains, Professor?" Sylvain asks, tipping his head.

Byleth looks at Dimitri who is starting to look more and more at ease the longer he stands in the room. "No," she says. "I trust you all."

* * *

Claude is in the library when she catches up to him. Byleth raps her knuckles against the doorframe and he looks up from where he's sitting pouring over a book. He raises an eyebrow at her and says nothing.

"He has a point about taking the Kingdom's support away from Edelgard," Byleth says.

Claude sighs. "I know, and that's why I'm frustrated. It is a good plan, but something I couldn't have done myself. It has to be him."

Byleth sits across from Claude. "What changes with Merceus now?" she changes the subject smoothly.

Claude frowns again. "Well, since we're giving her an extra month to prepare for us, there will be more fortification. She'll be more on edge and expecting a unified assault so there is almost no way that we'll be able to storm the front gates."

Byleth tips her head and smiles. "I guess you'll have to come up with a new scheme, won't you?"

Claude's lips twitch. "I guess so."

He returns his gaze to the book in front of him and Byleth takes a moment to study him. He is tense and there's a layer of exhaustion hidden behind his polished exterior. His hair looks messier than usual today and even the natural tan of his skin doesn't hide the dark circles under his eyes.

"Claude, you need to rest," she says.

He sighs and rubs a hand along his face. "I know, I know, but I can't do that right now."

Byleth reaches over and shuts the book he's reading. She looks at him sternly. "I'm not saying this as your friend. I'm saying this as your fellow commander. If you're tired you'll slip up and we can't afford that." She slides the book towards herself and out of his reach. "Go take a nap or something."

"Friend, huh?" he asks, tilting his head. There's a twinkle in his eyes that has been missing for the last week.

Byleth's ears grow warm, but she doesn't have time to think about the complications of her relationship with Claude–_or with Dimitri_–right now because they're in the middle of a war. She looks down at the book in front of her and blinks in surprise. It's a text that carries historical accounts of clashes at Fódlan's Throat.

Claude reaches over the pluck the book out of her grasp as he stands. "I'll rest if you do, Teach. You look dead on your feet as well." He walks around the table and pauses to lean down and press a light kiss to the top of her head. "People worry about you."

* * *

They take Fhirdiad with relative ease and Dimitri stands before his people with square shoulders. Pride and warmth floods through Byleth as she stands behind him. She embraces him after and her head presses against his chest.

She hears his heart thrum a little faster when she's close and she closes her eyes as some of the weight on her shoulders lifts. _Alive, alive, alive_, her mind whispers. _Alive and beautiful_.

* * *

/ _garland moon_ /

Since Fhirdiad, Byleth feels as if every war meeting they have is a chess match between Claude and Dimitri. They challenge each other at every decision and it both works in their favour and against them. Dimitri can point out a flaw in Claude's plans, but Claude comes up with some secretive reason to ignore or disprove Dimitri's points. Byleth leaves every meeting exhausted and feeling like a horrible referee.

Finally, five days before they march for Merceus, Seteth pulls her aside and tells her that either Claude has to share the rest of his plan or Dimitri must place enough trust in him that he doesn't need to or the whole thing will fall apart. Their forces' opinions are split between the two leaders and everyone is looking at Byleth to be the mediator. She knows he's right, but she wishes he wasn't.

The next evening, she calls both of them to stay as the rest of her former students leave. They take up positions on opposite sides of the table and Byleth feels like a mediator again. Dimitri folds his arms and waits patiently. Claude's foot taps against the floor and he quirks an eyebrow at Byleth.

She sighs. "Get along or we're all going to die," she says bluntly. "Claude, you need to give us more information than 'we're going to sneak in as Imperial troops'. Dimitri, you need to trust Claude–and me–because, provided we understand all the nuances of it, the plan is solid and there is no storming Merceus head on."

Dimitri's stubborn exterior softens much more quickly than Claude's. "Fine. I admit that the plan has merit, but I do want to know how you're planning on appearing as Imperial reinforcements if we've been marching under the Crest of Flames."

Claude sighs heavily. "Look, I want to tell you everything, but if everyone knows then it ruins the effect and it won't succeed."

Byleth bites her lip. "Then just tell Dimitri. If you two can agree on it, the rest will unite behind you." Both Lords look surprised at her willingness to be left out of the plan. She straightens and nods. "We don't have much time left so this had better work in our favour."

Before she can see herself out of the room, Claude steps toward her. He touches her arm gently and his eyes are warm with pride and affection. The touch is comforting, but it comes across as almost possessive. Skittish from the touch and the intent behind it, Byleth's eyes flick to Dimitri. His expression is neutral, but there's the tiniest bit of surprise evident in his good eye.

Claude notices her unease and instantly retracts his hand. He looks a bit guilty–like he had regretted the action as soon as he had done it–and Byleth steps back hurriedly. She swallows and looks between her two former students.

"Put your heads together," she instructs before she turns sharply and sees herself out of the room.

* * *

Almyran forces come to their aid as they storm Fort Merceus. Claude is wearing his trickster smile and Dimitri leads the charge on the front lines without a shred of doubt. Byleth knows that whatever they discussed has united them together and she is proud.

She directs Dimitri and Claude towards the Death Knight and tells them to make sure he has no escape. The rest of her students fight, unified, and Fort Merceus, the impregnable fortress, teeters on the edge of collapse. Byleth has other plans for herself.

She heads straight towards Linhardt. As expected, Caspar heads her off the moment she gets close. Her sword barely manages to deflect his axe aside as he swings against her.

"Professor," Caspar grunts in greeting as he swings at her again.

Byleth ducks under the slow, heavy blow and skirts around him, heading again for Linhardt. "Is this what you want, Linhardt?" she calls to the mage.

Linhardt frowns and sends a cutting burst of Wind in her direction. Byleth rolls to dodge it and then immediately has to deal with Caspar's attack again. She faces him down and tightens her grip on her sword.

"This isn't how this has to end," she says.

Caspar shakes his head and raises his axe. "I've got nothing left to lose, Professor."

"Join us, then. Both of you. You don't have to kill your friends today. You won't ever have to raise arms against a friend ever again."

Her words resonate and Linhardt's next attack knocks the axe out of Caspar's grip. "We're with you," he says and despite his consistently neutral tone of voice, Byleth doesn't doubt him for a moment.

* * *

"RUN!" Byleth screams. Her voice breaks on the word, but her voice carries. The troops, Alliance and Kingdom alike, flee desperately from the fortress.

The Death Knight's warning, no matter how strange it was, rings true in her ears as she hastily orders a retreat. Smoke plumes rise from the fort where the first mysterious explosion detonated. Soldiers sprint past her, getting lifts from cavalry and flying units wherever possible. Almyran flyers are even helping Fódlan troops where they can as they make a rapid retreat.

A mage trips in front of her and Byleth grabs the woman by the arm and hauls her back to her feet. She sends the woman off running and looks up desperately. The streak of bright light in the sky is getting brighter and larger and the pit in Byleth's stomach is growing deeper and darker. The retreat seems to be going well enough, but she's terrified there won't be enough time.

A group of foot soldiers are stumbling through a crumbled part of a wall towards her while trying to lift an injured soldier on a stretcher as they go. Byleth runs to them and helps two men through while bearing some of the weight of the stretcher as they move past her. Hooves clip on pavement behind her and Byleth glances back to see Rodrigue dismounting his horse to offer it to more injured soldiers. Rodrigue and Byleth quickly usher the rest of the troops through the rubble together.

"Professor, we must go!" Rodrigue says urgently.

Byleth nods and shoves the last soldier along. Before she can even take another step there is a low, terrible rumbling sound. Hands plant firmly against her side and shove her away from the fort right as there's a blinding flash of light and a deafening boom. She falls to the ground as her vision goes dark and her ears ring from the aftermath of an explosion.

* * *

Her whole body aches. Her eyes are closed and her eyelids feel impossibly heavy. There's a dull ringing echoing through her skull and she wants it to stop. She gasps in a breath and tries to get the ringing to stop.

Dimly, in the distance, she thinks she hears someone shouting her name. Her mind stirs as she tries to wake up. A voice calls again, closer this time, and Byleth finally pries her eyes open with a shuttering gasp.

She's lying on a ledge of crumbled stone from one of the bridges around the fort that's precariously broken and nearly crumbling down into the gorge. She lifts a hand slowly to her temple and it comes away red and sticky with her own blood. Byleth swallows and tries to push herself up. She only manages to shift so she's sitting instead of lying before her muscles cry out in protest.

"Byleth!"

This time the shout of her name is much closer and she hears it clearly. She tries to shout back, but her voice comes out a rasp and her head spins. It had been Dimitri's voice that she'd heard and she had wanted to cry out for him, but all she can manage is another strangled gasp and a mangled cough.

There's a rustle of wings above her and a string of curses in a language she doesn't understand. Her neck hurts too much to look up, but she knows that voice too. Byleth slumps against the half-crumbled railing next to her and closes her eyes.

Claude has seen her and Dimitri is close by. She keeps her eyes shut and lets blackness overtake her.

* * *

/ _blue sea moon_ /

Byleth spends half of the month before the attack on Enbarr on bed rest. Mercedes and Marianne fuss over her daily, but Byleth itches to be out of her room and walking around freely. Her injuries have healed and the dutiful care of her medics has finally brought her hearing back to full capacity and now she's going stir crazy.

Despite her protests, Marianne and Mercedes refuse to let her out unaccompanied. During one of his visits, Claude had offered to break her out, but Byleth had made a promise that she wouldn't do anything stupid so she had refused. The only thing she enjoys about being confined to her room is that it gives her former students a multitude of excuses to come to visit with her for tea.

Annette and Hilda are two of her most frequent visitors, but she has seen all of her students at least once. Even Felix had come by, though that conversation had been much sadder. Guilt still gnaws at Byleth's stomach when she thinks of the swordsman because Rodrigue had shoved her clear of the blast, but he had not been so fortunate himself. Though Felix and his father had not been particularly close, he still grieved.

Finally, twelve days before the march for Enbarr, Mercedes allows Byleth to go, unaccompanied, to the Training Hall after she promises not to overdo it. Byleth works through all her low-levelled sword drills and then most of her moderate-difficulty ones before her muscles finally start to ache. She drops the training sword back into the weapon's rack and starts stretching where she's sore.

She is just pulling her arms over her head when she sees him standing in the entrance to the hall. Byleth drops her arms abruptly and folds her arms, frowning.

"How long have you been watching?"

"Not long," Dimitri replies. "Mercedes told me I would probably find you here."

Byleth runs a hand through her sweaty hair. "Can I help you with something?"

"I was actually hoping you wanted to spar," Dimitri admits. He walks further into the training hall and unhooks his heavy cloak, draping it along the raised edge of the pit.

Byleth folds her arms. "So you can kick my injured butt?"

Dimitri shrugs. "I've never beaten you before, I don't see why that would change."

Byleth makes a face. "This is my first training day in over two weeks, Dimitri."

Dimitri picks a training lance from the rack. "I'll go easy on you."

That's as much warning as he gives her before he's coming at her, lance levelled at her head. Byleth drops instinctively and darts around him, breaking for the weapon rack. She kicks a sword into her hand and turns to face Dimitri. He has already turned toward her and he tests a light, slashing blow in her direction. Byleth blocks him and spins the sword in her grip, pushing his lance up at an uncomfortable angle.

Dimitri backs off and adjusts his grip to avoid her trap before aiming a jab toward her midsection. Byleth slashes down and hits along the shaft of the lance to drive it toward the ground. She presses a foot along the top of it and leans forward, flicking her sword toward Dimitri's face.

The blade stops just inches before his throat and Byleth smirks. "Easy on me, huh?"

Mischief glimmers in Dimitri's good eye. The lance under Byleth's foot shifts suddenly and she's knocked just off-balance enough that she starts to tumble to the ground. Dimitri curses, clearly not intending to have knocked her straight to the ground. He lunges forward and manages to grab at Byleth, but her momentum is enough to take them both down in a tangle of limbs.

She coughs and rolls onto her back on the stone. Dimitri's body is a heavy weight pressing her against the floor and she pushes at his shoulders until he lifts himself up. He kneels, awkwardly straddling one of her legs, and looks down at her with concern on his face.

"Are you alright, Professor?"

Byleth feels sore, but the heat rolling over her body at Dimitri's closeness has nothing to do with pain. He flushes a moment later and quickly scrambles back, embarrassed at the close quarters interaction. Byleth stays seated on the ground for a moment and pushes her hair back as she catches her breath. She stands and stretches her neck briefly, working out a twinge of pain.

"Still sharp, I guess," she says teasingly.

Dimitri laughs. He picks up his lance and her sword and returns them to the rack. "Still sharp," he consents.

* * *

Enbarr is a beautiful city. It is hundreds of old stone buildings in a beautiful scenic location and entirely unfitting for the violent siege that takes it. It is a gruelling last stand taken by the Empire. Petra guards the main gate, Dorothea and the Death Knight are stationed in the city, and Hubert guards the palace gates.

Felix goes toe-to-toe with Petra in a blindingly fast sword duel that eventually results with them both losing their blades and Felix pinning the Brigid Princess to the ground with a quick brawling move. Byleth worries only for a moment before Felix releases her and offers her a hand up and an apparent chance to change sides. Ignatz quickly supplies Petra with a new sword and then the Alliance-Kingdom army gains a new ally in their fight.

Once they're through the gate it is clear how outmatched Edelgard's defensive forces are against the combined might of the Alliance and Kingdom and the strategic minds of Claude, Dimitri, and Byleth. Dimitri doesn't leave her side as they press forward into the city and it feels good to fight alongside him now that he's clear-headed.

Even so, Byleth feels partially responsible for the lack of parlay between Dimitri, Edelgard, and Claude before combat since everyone had been so scattered looking after her and all of the wounded soldiers from the destruction of Fort Merceus. She has an inkling, however, that it wouldn't have gone any better than the conversation in the tomb from back at the academy, so she doesn't feel too guilty.

The final push has Lysithea leading a battalion to rain dark magic down upon the Death Knight, backed up by Leonie and Lorenz while Ashe and Ignatz call a rain of arrows down on Hubert's battalion, leaving the mage himself to be dealt with by the horribly deadly combination of Claude and Dimitri. Dimitri is the one who shows more remorse as Hubert goes down protecting his emperor.

* * *

The battle inside the palace is much more a test of their army as dark mages bombard their troops and the giant demonic beasts attack the structure of the palace as much as the troops themselves. When Annette goes down in one hit from one of the massive creatures, Byleth's hands shake terribly as she calls upon her Divine Pulse.

She rearranges her strategy and sends her defensive units first while having her archers pick at the magic corps. The Blue Lions congregate around the demonic beast on the left side while the Golden Deer take on the one on the right. Caspar, Linhardt, Petra, Bernadetta, and Dorothea–who had easily flipped sides when she had recognized her former classmates–take on what soldiers get around the troops.

"Well, shall we?" Claude asks. He gestures towards the final door that separates them from Edelgard and Byleth exhales slowly.

"Professor?" Dimitri inquires.

Byleth straightens and turns the Sublime Creator Sword over in her palm. It's burning with energy and she lets the burn soak into her veins as she welcomes its holy power.

"We face her together," Byleth says.

* * *

Edelgard falls and it should be over. The Emperor is kneeling on the floor of her own throne room in front of Byleth who is flanked by Dimitri on her left and Claude on her right. Byleth stares down at Edelgard for a long moment.

"I once thought I could save you from this," Byleth says quietly.

Edelgard doesn't respond. Dimitri is tense at her side and Claude stands motionless but with a hand wrapped around Failnaught. Byleth sheathes the Sublime Creator Sword and kneels in front of Edelgard.

Edelgard's wrist flicks out quickly and the pain is sharp in her stomach, but not unexpected. Byleth doesn't flinch and draws her own dagger. She leans in close enough that Edelgard can hear her whisper, but neither of the Lords behind her can.

"This is for my father and for every person that died in this pointless crusade."

Jeralt's prized hunting dagger sinks into the Emperor's chest and Edelgard draws a last, rushed and pained breath before she tips to the side and collapses. Byleth remains kneeling for a moment longer, her hand still curled around the hilt of her father's now bloody dagger. The pain in her stomach flares around where Edelgard's own weapon had struck.

"Teach?" Claude inquires, stepping forward.

"Professor?" Dimitri echoes.

Byleth inhales deeply and closes her eyes. _I did it, Sothis,_ she whispers to the void in her head. The thought takes the last of the strength she can muster and she feels her body give out and she tips towards the stone floor herself in a terrible reflection of every nightmare she has had about this chamber.

Claude and Dimitri both let out startled cries, but the world goes quiet much too quickly after that.

* * *

_Author's Note: One more part! One more part! Gosh I wrote waaaaay too much considering all of pt 4, this part and what I have left was originally supposed to be one part. Anyways, I'm sorry Rodrigue, but this is a Fire Emblem story which means no dads allowed, especially good ones. Dimitri is back, Claude is a little jealous, and its Black Eagle recruiting hours (again, I'm sorry Ferdie!). Edie's done, but so is Byleth? Hm... and what are the loose ends that still need to be tied up? I guess I have to figure that out before you all do. _

_I'm on Tumblr if you wanna yell at me (nicolewrites)._


	6. vi - verdant moon

_vi - verdant moon_

* * *

Byleth dreams of Seiros and Nemesis and the Tailtean Plains. The clash of their blades echoes across the battlefield and into Byleth's skull. After a gruelling, dirty brawl, Seiros finally throws away both of their blades and gains the upper hand.

The swords skid to a stop in the mud at Byleth's feet. Curious, she bends over and runs her hand along the Sword of the Creator. The blade is cool to the touch as opposed to the familiar warmth Byleth knows from her own time wielding the sword. The other blade, the one wielded by Seiros, is a straight blade with wave-like edges that glimmers with an undercurrent of blue.

Byleth pauses before she can touch the blade. She knows this sword. _This is Rhea's sword_. Byleth's head snaps up to where Seiros is pinning Nemesis to the earth. Seiros looks eerily familiar and when she speaks, cursing Nemesis for his past actions, Byleth recognizes her voice.

_Rhea is Seiros_.

Seiros's knife sinks into Nemesis's chest and as it retracts, piercing pain shoots through Byleth's stomach. She gasps and her knees buckle as she falls into the mud. The knife sinks into Nemesis's stomach again and this time when it retracts the pain in her stomach intensifies until her vision turns white and–

_she wakes up._

* * *

/ _verdant rain moon_ /

Byleth sits up sharply, gasping for air. Manuela, Mercedes, Dimitri, and Claude, who are all gathered around her, jolt back in surprise. Manuela is holding the dagger that Edelgard stabbed her with and Mercedes quickly draws the rune for a Fortify spell and lets the white magic sink into Byleth.

"Professor, please lie down!" Manuela says as she leans forward to grasp Byleth's arms and lower her back to the ground.

Byleth's head is spinning. She lies down as Manuela requests and stares blankly at the ceiling above her. The ornate designs that decorate it tell her she is still in the Imperial Palace. She is lying on the ground, but there is something heavy and soft beneath her. Her fingers brush along it blindly, feeling along the fur, until she realizes that it is Dimitri's cloak.

"Teach, are you alright?" Claude asks, leaning more into her field of view.

Byleth nods. Mercedes's magic healed her wound, but her mind is still spinning from the dream she had had. Byleth turns the palm of her right hand up and unfurls her fingers. Claude notices the action and drops his own hand into hers. His gloves have been removed and Byleth feels the familiar long, calloused fingers wind into her own. She lifts her left hand to the left of her body and both of Dimitri's large hands close around it, cradling it between his.

Byleth lets her eyes shut for a long moment. "Is everyone alright?" There's a heavy pause and her eyes snap open, flicking between Dimitri and Claude's grim expressions.

"We have suffered heavy losses," Dimitri admitted. "Edelgard's last line of defences carried the kill or die trying mindset, that's for sure. Some of our troops needed heavy medical attention and some didn't make it."

"We lost Gilbert, despite Flayn's efforts, and we may yet lose Raph." Claude's voice is tinged with pain as he mentions the state of one of his former Golden Deer classmates.

Byleth squeezes his hand and nods. "Annette?" she asks Dimitri.

Mercedes answers her instead. "She was with Ingrid and Ashe the last time I saw her. She'll be alright."

Byleth takes a deep breath and ignores the throb of pain in her stomach. "Where's Rhea?"

Claude looks surprised at the question and he and Dimitri exchange a furtive look. "She's alive, but she doesn't look good. The Knights have already started the return march to Garreg Mach and I believe she and Seteth have already left Enbarr."

"I need to speak with her as soon as possible," Byleth mutters. Her head hurts and her stomach still aches dully.

"You need to rest," Dimitri says firmly. "You're in no state to travel and we have some things to deal with here in Enbarr first."

"Rest," Byleth echoes dimly. She closes her eyes again. "I have to speak to Seiros," she mumbles, but exhaustion is already flooding through her body.

She falls asleep where she lies, clutching Claude's hand while Dimitri cradled her other one.

* * *

It takes a week to settle affairs in Enbarr before the main forces of the Alliance-Kingdom coalition army can begin the trek back to Garreg Mach. Mercedes keeps a watchful eye on Byleth's injury, but it heals steadily until Byleth is back on her feet and attending political meetings in the Imperial Palace alongside her former students.

Dimitri and Claude lead the discussions, while nobles from across Adrestria assemble in the capital to denounce Edelgard's ambitions. There is a great deal of work that will need to be done in reconstructing Adrestia, but Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance all require their own reworking. Byleth had apparently been appointed as the representative for the Church of Seiros at the discussions, though she mostly keeps her mouth shut and watches Claude and Dimitri handle the negotiations easily.

After the third day of meetings, Byleth has noticed a pattern. Claude seems to be loosening his grip on what power could easily become his. He directs questions about the Empire-Alliance border to the nobles in that region or even to Byleth and the church, but doesn't elaborate on plans for the Alliance. Dimitri doesn't appear to notice and if he does notice, he takes no issue with it. He seems content to step into his role as King of Faerghus.

On the seventh day, after the end of the discussions, Byleth lingers in the audience chamber, staring at the map of Fódlan. Her presence is clearly noted as both Dimitri and Claude stay to watch her. Byleth slides a marker indicating a group of Knights to the monastery's location and then moves the piece indicating the Alliance troops there as well, followed by the Kingdom's troops.

"When we leave tomorrow, what becomes of Adrestria?" she asks. "They are leaderless and there is no way there will ever be trust for them across Fódlan again."

She tilts her head up to look between the two lords. Dimitri looks down at the map and swallows, but remains quiet. Claude shifts, pulling at his sash, but he meets her eyes. Byleth narrows her gaze and pins him with a firm stare.

"Fódlan will become one nation," Claude finally answers. "I'm waiting on the last few letters of assent from Alliance nobles, but I know they won't hold out too much longer."

"We intend to combine all territories into the Kingdom of Fódlan and," Dimitri pauses, looking slightly uncomfortable, "I am poised to take the crown as King."

Claude's lips twitch into a small smirk. "It wasn't my original plan, that's for sure, but you can't exactly un-king the King of Faerghus."

Dimitri laughs lightly and paces around the edge of the table, studying the pieces on the map that Byleth had moved. "We both know that your first choice would have turned down the position."

Byleth frowns. "Turned down? Claude, surely you had your own intentions of becoming king?"

Claude shakes his head. "No, Teach, that was always a position that I intended to leave to a person who I thought this nation could truly rally behind."

His gaze on her is warm and open and Byleth jolts as she realizes the truth of his statement. "Me?" she questions. "You intended for me to be a queen? Claude, I was born a commoner and I don't know the first thing about ruling!"

He shrugs. "You were a unifying figure and if the way you stepped up to lead during the war was any indication, I know you could have done it. But, alas, Dimitri here has foiled that scheme quite thoroughly."

Byleth's surprise renders her speechless. It turns out that she wouldn't have gotten a chance to speak anyways, as there is an interrupting knock at the doorway of the chamber. Byleth looks past Claude and sees a troubled-looking Lysithea standing in the doorway.

"Professor, Claude, Dimitri," she greets politely, nodding to each of them. "I was hoping to have a word with the Professor about something."

Dimitri nods. "I can take my leave if you'd like."

Lysithea shakes her head. "No, as much as I once might have preferred that, this is information you should know as well." She walks into the room and places a folded piece of paper on the table.

Claude, who is closest, picks it up and skims over it. His eyebrows shoot up and he looks back to Lysithea. "Lysithea?" he questions.

She inhales and closes her eyes before she tells them all she knows about Those Who Slither in the Dark and the contents of Hubert's letter. She notes that the Javelins of Light at Fort Merceus were definitely their doing and that Edelgard was probably a victim to their schemes as well.

Claude passes Byleth the letter and Dimitri moves to stand behind her so he can read it over her shoulder. Lysithea continues her explanation and Byleth feels a cold chill creep along her spine as she starts to put things together. Kronya, Solon, and Thales were all members of this group, and if her suspicion was correct, so was Cornelia and the main perpetrators of the Tragedy of Duscur.

Her three former students all bear grim expressions as they all come to the same realization: this isn't over yet.

Byleth folds the letter and slides it into a pocket in her coat. She squares her shoulders and nods. "Let us return to Garreg Mach. There is much we must ask Rhea."

* * *

Seteth tries to stop her, but Byleth is done with secrets. She pushes aside the archbishop's aide and steps into Rhea's quarters. Behind her, Seteth protests and tries to halt her entourage as well, but Dimitri is strong and Claude is nimble so they both manage to maneuver past him as well.

Rhea is seated at a vanity on the far side of her room. She is slowly and methodically putting on her jewelry and the decorations that indicate her rank as archbishop. She sees Byleth approach in the mirror and pauses, turning to look back.

"I am happy to see you have survived," Rhea says softly.

Byleth frowns. "I am not here for pleasantries, Rhea," she says firmly. "The time for secrets is done. What do you know about Those Who Slither in the Dark?"

Rhea rights herself and her expression firms into something unreadable. "Yes, I suppose that it is time you knew everything." She looks between Claude and Dimitri as well as the lingering figure of Seteth in the doorway.

And Rhea tells them.

* * *

They prepare to march on Shambhala. Hilda secures reinforcements from Holst that will meet them there on the last day of the month and the monastery bustles into motion as battle preparations begin in earnest. Some of her students return home briefly to see their families and pass on messages. Claude makes a trip to Derdriu for an impromptu Roundtable Conference, and Dimitri spends a week in Fhirdiad to smooth over Kingdom affairs.

Byleth remains in the monastery and she trains. Her body still struggles to keep up at times due to the injuries she sustained at Fort Merceus as well as the wound from Edelgard in Enbarr. Even so, she works herself back into top form. She spars with Felix and Caspar and Sylvain and Ingrid and Petra and Catherine. By the end of it, Byleth feels stronger than she has in a long time.

The night before Dimitri is set to return and three days before they march for Shambhala, Byleth heads to the Cathedral by herself. She stands in front of the ruined goddess statue and looks up at it. Reconstruction efforts on the church have continued, but there is something poetic about the way it stands now–half-broken and not entirely whole.

_Sothis_, she thinks. _Thank you for your strength. I am sorry to have lost you as I did and I hope that you will forgive me, my friend_.

There's a flicker of warmth in her chest and the Sublime Creator Sword pulses with red light once. Byleth curls a hand over where her heart should be. _You will always be with me_.

* * *

Thales falls in front of her. Byleth stands above him, the Sublime Creator Sword burning in her hand. The battle for the city has been brutal and bloody and now it is over.

"So, Sothis, you have decided to finally strike us down, have you?" Thales hisses.

Byleth doesn't reply and flicks her wrist so the tip of her sword is pointed straight at Thales. She breathes in deeply and barely catches the glint in Thales's eyes.

"You will never get to enjoy your victory," he snarls. Thales's hand presses against the stone and a massive glyph set into the ground lights up.

Behind Byleth, Rhea gasps in shock. There is a terrible moment of nothing and then the roof of the underground city shakes and starts to give way. Byleth staggers back. Thales fixes her with a horrible, satisfied stare as the ceiling starts to fall in chunks around them. Byleth's allies scream in terror and begin to retreat. Byleth steps towards Thales, but a massive chunk of rock from the ceiling falls and blocks her view of him, spraying her in dust and shards of rock.

"Byleth!" Dimitri yells to her over the chaos of battle. "The whole place is coming down! We have to get out of here!" He is one of the few people remaining in the central chamber as the rest of the army evacuates in an attempt to leave Shambhala before more destruction can occur.

Sunlight breaks through overhead and Byleth sees tears of light across the sky as more missiles approach. As much as she wants to see Thales's death with her own eyes, she has no desire to die alongside him. Byleth takes one step back and then another before she turns and starts to run for the exit.

Rhea, however, doesn't seem intent on retreat as she sprints towards where Thales had fallen and launches herself upward. In a familiar burst of green light, Rhea transforms and the Immaculate One soars upward towards the falling Javelins of Light. Byleth stands, transfixed, as Rhea defends the armies below from the missiles.

Rhea is not a god and one missile gets by her, streaking toward Shambhala. Byleth brings her arms up to protect her face as it detonates close enough that she can feel the terrible, familiar heat of the explosion. Something heavy hits her in the side and she finds herself being tackled out of the way.

Byleth opens her eyes and sees Dimitri with his eye shut and his arms wrapped around her as they hit the ground heavily. His large frame shields her from the blast, but she still feels the heat wash over them both as it radiates out. When the explosions cease, Byleth rolls Dimitri off of her and desperately assesses him, fear rising in her throat. His back is torn with shrapnel and he is soundly unconscious, but he is breathing heavily and after a quick Heal spell, his breathing evens out to be more like sleep. She brushes his hair out of his face and presses a kiss to his temple as she cradles him.

Byleth looks past him and sees the utter ruins that have been left in the place of Shambhala. Lying in the centre of the room, inside a ring of scorched stone, is Rhea's human form. There is yelling and a loud blast and a wall of rocks on the fall side of the room are pushed aside to reveal Claude, Raphael, Annette, Seteth, and Felix.

Seteth and the others make haste to Rhea's side, while Claude hurries towards Byleth. Byleth cradles Dimitri closer to her, but makes eye contact with Claude as he kneels next to her. Claude places a hand on Dimitri's chest, feeling for a heartbeat, and relaxes once he finds one.

"Too stubborn to die, this one," he murmurs lowly.

He turns to face her more fully and pulls her into an awkward hug, being mindful of the fact that Byleth is holding Dimitri. His lips press into her temple and Byleth can hear his heart racing. He holds her for a moment as if he is afraid to let her go. She closes her eyes and lets his closeness reassure her.

_Alive, alive, alive_, she thinks. _We are all alive_.

* * *

/ _horsebow moon_ /

It takes nearly all of the healers in Garreg Mach to save Rhea, but they manage. Byleth tends to Dimitri herself to allow Mercedes and Marianne and Linhardt and Manuela to save their magic for people who need more care.

In the aftermath, people begin to realize that the war seems to be finally and truly over. Sylvain proposes to Ingrid almost immediately upon returning to the monastery and they are married a week later in an intimate ceremony that Byleth presides over upon their request. Lorenz constructs a small, understated proposal to Marianne because he knows that she would prefer something smaller and quiet. Byleth sees Felix lying in the grass with his head in Annette's lap as she combs her fingers through his hair and sings quietly.

Ignatz and Mercedes are together every time Byleth sees them. Petra and Ashe spend enough time together that Byleth thinks something may be brewing. Linhardt seems to pester Lysithea at every turn about her crests, but the softness in her gaze seems to indicate she does not mind too much. Caspar tags along for the sheer purpose of pestering Linhardt and Byleth even stumbles upon Lysithea and Cyril huddled in a corner in the library as the latter learns to read.

Leonie falls into a position as something of a commander to the mercenaries that used to follow Jeralt, much to her surprise and Byleth's pleasure. Raphael writes home twice as often and takes the time to seek out Hilda to learn about managing a business and dealing with his sister. Hilda herself writes to her brother fairly often and fully embraces her role in the organization of reconstruction efforts for the Church. Hilda and Raphael also manage to rope Bernadetta into several "confidence lessons" as they teach her to be more assertive and confident. Dedue keeps an eye on Dimitri through his recovery and continues his support as his vassal.

Dorothea organizes a funeral for Ferdinand amongst the remaining Black Eagles. She grieves deeply, but soon approaches Manuela with the idea of using the refugees of their old Opera Company to entertain wounded soldiers on bed rest. The idea turns out wonderfully and morale rises amongst those undergoing long recoveries.

Dimitri summons nobles from across Fódlan to Garreg Mach to discuss the future. Seteth agrees to represent the church in the meetings so that Byleth does not have to. She spectates them instead and feels a bit like an outsider. Many of her former students, especially those with titles they will inherit attend the meetings, but Claude is conspicuously absent.

* * *

It is three weeks after they take down Shambhala, that Dimitri asks her to stay after one of the meetings. She steps to his side and studies his face. He looks tired, but not discontent. Byleth reaches up without thinking and touches his face gently. Dimitri's eye closes and he leans into the palm of her hand.

"Are you alright?" she asks him quietly. "Do you need anything?"

He gives a low laugh. "I am still having those dreams," he murmurs. "I am restructuring the ruling system of a continent and most of the notes I have," he gestures to the scribbled talking points he has been using in the discussions, "are not my own."

Byleth drops her hand from his face and takes the notes from Dimitri. She recognizes the writing on them immediately: they were written by Claude. "Why is Claude writing you a new system of government and then bowing out of it completely?"

Dimitri shakes his head. "I am unsure. He has been in the library looking through the archives for some time now. I think much of what he saw at Shambhala has not settled with him." Dimitri sighs. "Honestly, it has not settled with me either. What was that great beast that saved us? Why was it _Rhea_? Why were our opponents so dead set on destroying you and Rhea that they killed hundreds of their own?" He shakes his head again. "I have many questions for Rhea."

_For Seiros_, Byleth's mind reminds. She forces herself not to frown. "I have many of my own," she admits. "And I am sure Claude feels the same. Perhaps we should bring our questions to her," she muses.

Dimitri shakes his head. "Professor, Rhea needs rest now. We cannot interrupt that."

Byleth frowns. "I do not believe that her rest takes precedence over everything we have done for her." She turns away from Dimitri. "I need answers," she admits. He doesn't move behind her so she steps away and heads for the entrance of the door, pausing briefly once more. "I am going to go speak with Claude."

He doesn't follow her out.

* * *

She finds Claude in his room sitting on the floor, surrounded by books that she doesn't recognize. Byleth taps her knuckles on the doorframe and he looks up. The lines of stress in his forehead relax and his gaze softens when he sees it's her.

"Hey, Teach, what can I do for you?"

Byleth folds her arms and shifts her weight awkwardly. "We have been back from Shambhala for three weeks and I have hardly seen you."

Claude's lips twitch into a small smirk. "Did you miss me or something?"

She narrows her eyes. "Dimitri could use your support as well. Not everyone is as on board with the unification of Fódlan as you two are."

Claude sighs. "I have my reasons for not being there," he says vaguely. At Byleth's unimpressed look, he gestures to the books around him. "I am looking for answers," he elaborates.

Byleth purses her lips and steps into the room, glancing down at the book Claude is studying currently. It looks like the same one that held the image of the Immaculate One that he had shared with her all those years ago. Byleth knelt and ran a fingertip over the sketch on the page.

"You have questions for Rhea," she murmured.

Claude snorts. "Who doesn't after that display? Still, I am not sure I have the authority to disturb her rest since the war is basically over at this point."

Byleth frowns. "I am going to speak to her tomorrow. I would like it if you were there." She rises back to her feet, but before she can walk away, Claude grabs the edge of her coat. She looks back at him and there are several emotions swirling in the green of his eyes, many of which she cannot pick out.

"Byleth," he says softly.

She pulls out of his grip and walks towards the door. "When you're ready to stop keeping secrets from me, we can have this conversation," she says.

* * *

Seteth folds his arms. "Absolutely not. I made an exception for you last time, Professor, but I absolutely must not let you pass now. Lady Rhea needs rest and she mustn't be disturbed."

Byleth takes a deep breath. "Seteth, I am not asking you to move. I am telling you that I am going to speak to Rhea."

Seteth frowns at her and doesn't budge from his place outside Rhea's door. Cyril, who stands next to him, is also frowning. Byleth has come alone and is not interested in taking no for an answer. There are questions she has for Rhea and she was going to get her answers.

"Didn't you learn a long time ago that you can't win an argument with Teach, Seteth?" Claude calls as he rounds the corner from the stairwell.

Dimitri is with him and neither of the two of them looks in the mood for idle conversation. Byleth presses her lips into a line as the two lords approach. Dimitri nods to her.

"We have questions to ask Rhea," Dimitri states firmly.

Finally, Seteth and Cyril seem to realize they are fighting a losing battle. Seteth turns to open the door, knocking lightly on it.

"Rhea," he calls, "Byleth, Dimitri, and Claude are here to speak with you."

He waits a moment until Rhea responds in a soft voice that Byleth can't quite pick up on, but then he opens the door and steps aside. Byleth strides into the room and notes that Rhea is standing by the largest window in her room, looking out at the monastery. She is without her archbishop's regalia and is dressed simply in a plain white dress.

Dimitri and Claude follow her into the room and Rhea turns towards them. Her face is drawn and tired looking, but she is alive, at least, and that is more than many of the people who died in her service can say. Anger wells in Byleth's chest and she takes a deep breath to try and calm herself.

"Apologies for disturbing your rest, Lady Rhea," Dimitri says politely.

Rhea shakes her head. "No, you must have questions, it is alright. Ask me and I will do my best to answer them."

Claude tips his head to the side and gives Rhea a calculating look. "You're the Immaculate One, aren't you? You appeared to defend Garreg Mach five years ago. And if the rest of what I'm thinking is correct–"

"It is," Rhea affirms. "I am the last child of the progenitor god. My mother, Sothis, lost all of her children in the Red Canyon massacre. All of them except me."

"Is that when you started calling yourself Seiros? After Zanado?" Byleth asks. Her voice comes out harder than she intends, and Dimitri and Claude both seem startled by the implication of her words.

Rhea's expression hardens. "Yes. I called myself Seiros and I raised an army to oppose Nemesis."

She tells them about Nemesis's true history and about the truth of the relics and the Crests. Beside her, Claude and Dimitri both seem uncomfortable at the realization that their weapons and the Crests the bear have come from such dark roots. Then, of course, they realize that the Sublime Creator Sword is not just any relic, but one that was created from Sothis's remains.

"How can the Professor wield the Sword of the Creator?" Dimitri asks. His gaze drops to where it hangs at Byleth's waist. "It does not have a Crest Stone."

Rhea looks down and for the first time in the conversation, she actually appears guilty. The anger swells in Byleth again as she starts to connect the dots herself. "The Professor bears the Crest of Flames and can wield the Sword of the Creator because," Rhea pauses, trying to gather the right words.

Byleth's hand presses against her own chest where her heart should have been. "The Crest Stone is inside of me, isn't it?" Rhea doesn't disagree and Byleth's anger grows. "You used me to try to resurrect Sothis," she accuses.

Claude frowns. "All those years ago, in the Holy Mausoleum, when you said that Teach could expect a revelation," he murmurs. His eyes widen and his expression hardens. "You thought that sending her to sit on that throne would bring back the goddess."

Rhea closes her eyes. "I did many things in an attempt to reach my mother that I am not proud of. And still, it was not enough. She simply bestowed her power upon you and left." Rhea raises her head and looks Byleth in the eyes. "I had hoped she would return to me."

Byleth steps back from Rhea, feeling her anger well further. "I am not a pawn for you to play with in an attempt to raise a god," she says sharply. "I will not let you use me."

Rhea's expression slips into something that is almost disappointed. "You were different from what I expected. You seemed to know what was happening after you merged and I had just hoped that perhaps I had succeeded this time."

"This time?" Dimitri echoes, confused.

Claude turns his head to Byleth looking startled. "What do you mean, Rhea?"

The archbishop tilts her head. "I felt you tear the fabric of space and time the first time after Dimitri fell facing Edelgard. I felt her presence there, but it has never returned since that moment even as you walked the same path all this time."

Byleth steps away from Rhea, fear and surprise quickly replacing her anger. "You knew. All this time you knew and you said nothing."

Rhea doesn't get a chance to reply before an armoured knight bursts into the room, followed by Hilda and Seteth.

"There is an army marching on Garreg Mach. They march under a banner that bears the Crest of Flames and the reports say that their leader wields a blade that looks exactly like the Sword of the Creator."

There is no disguising the malice and the darkness in Rhea's voice as she spits the name of their enemy:

"_Nemesis_."

* * *

They meet Nemesis's forces at the base of the mountains that surround Garreg Mach. It doesn't take long for them to notice the 10 Elites and the army's commander himself. Byleth disperses their forces as best as she can to take out as many of the Elites as possible and she charts herself a route directly to Nemesis.

He sees her coming and a cruel smile paints his features. His sword lashes out and Byleth swings with all of her strength to block the blow. She succeeds, but her feet slide in the dirt from the force of the impact. She doesn't hesitate then, stepping forward and making her countermove as her own blade cracks along the spine to lash out at him.

Nemesis blocks in a similar manner and charges straight at her. The two Swords of the Creator clash with a deafening clang and a burst of light spread across the field around them. Nemesis leers at her and presses her back, putting his strength into the deadlock of swords. It takes all of her strength to resist the assault as she pushes back, keeping their swords locked together.

He is by far the best opponent Byleth has ever faced in terms of skill and in raw strength. He is practiced with the blade despite having been dead for a significant amount of time. She screams out as she presses him back, digging for the power of Sothis to help her resist the force of his attack.

Her aid comes in a different form, instead, as out of the corner of her eye, she spies a spear drive up towards Nemesis. Her opponent twists, breaking the deadlock of their blades to deflect the oncoming spear. Dimitri growls and slashes again, trying to push the bandit into retreating. Nemesis, however, seems more than capable of deflecting Dimitri's blows while also keeping Byleth and her blade busy.

Claude's arrow nearly lands, but Nemesis jumps back, cutting it from the air. He stands apart from them for a moment and assesses the situation. "You are too weak to take me on alone," he goads Byleth.

She tightens her grip on her sword and says nothing.

"She is strong enough to have allies to help her," Dimitri growls back.

"And we have the strength, together, to finish the job," Claude replies.

He fires an arrow up in an arc and Byleth goes on the offensive again. Byleth's blade locks against his for only a moment before the searing red of Claude's arrow strikes down and shatters the Crest Stone in the hilt of the weapon. Dimitri doesn't hesitate, driving his spear at the sword and shattering the blade in Nemesis's hand.

Byleth deals the final blow and it is all _finally over_.

* * *

When Rhea summons her, she almost doesn't go. Everyone is celebrating all throughout the monastery–Hilda is organizing a celebratory ball, even–and Byleth gets summoned to speak with Rhea alone.

She climbs the stairs to the third floor quietly. For once, she is not carrying her sword. The blade is currently on a hook in her chambers and the only weapon she is carrying is Jeralt's hunting knife strapped to her hip. Byleth touches the stone walls as she ascends the stairs. She has spent so many hours inside of these walls and it finally feels like home to her. She just wishes that Jeralt was there to see it too.

Rhea isn't in her chambers. Instead, Cyril silently directs her out into the star garden. Byleth smiles at him and slips past him, heading outside. Rhea stands in the centre, silhouetted by the setting sun. She still isn't wearing her regalia and faces away from Byleth even as she approaches.

"Can you hear her, Professor?" Rhea asks quietly.

"No," Byleth replies. "Not since I changed."

Rhea looks down and lets out a long sigh. "What changed this time? Why did she return to you last time?"

Byleth crosses her arms. "When I went back, I severed most of my bond with Sothis. It was repaired mostly when we merged again, but she told me that we were different this time and that she did not know if she could ever reach me again."

Rhea finally turns to look at her. "Perhaps if we continued to test your faith and abilities," she began.

Byleth shakes her head. "No, you misunderstand. Sothis told me that she hoped I would never have a need for her power again."

Rhea deflates a little and turns to look away from Byleth again, inclining her head to stare up at the darkening sky. "I see."

Rhea doesn't say anything for a long moment, but Byleth doesn't leave. She waits.

"Do you know that I am still fading?" Rhea asks. "I doubt there will be much recovery for me after what happened in Shambhala, no matter the rest that Cyril and Seteth and Flayn insist I take. I have something to ask of you, Professor. I know that originally I brought you into this despite your wishes and those of your father, but I hope that you might consider leading the church in my place. Even if Sothis has truly left us this time, you shall soon be this world's last real connection to the goddess."

Byleth is shocked. Of all the things Rhea could have asked, this is not what she had been expecting. "Rhea, I did not believe in the goddess before all of this unfolded. I cannot hear her voice anymore and I am not a holy person."

"I disagree. For the time that I was imprisoned in Enbarr, you fought with my knights. You led my armies into battle and you appeared as the image of my church." Rhea turns back to her. "You have already led these people, won't you do it again?" Byleth steps back. She frowns involuntarily and Rhea lifts a hand patiently. "Do not worry, I do not expect you to make a decision immediately. If all goes as I hope, you will have some time to consider this offer."

"Rhea," Byleth murmurs. She can see it now: how the archbishop is barely standing and how exhausted and defeated she looks.

Rhea smiles softly. "Go, now. There will be parties for you to attend and this world has a victory to celebrate. It would be a shame for you to miss that."

* * *

Hilda knows how to throw a party. She had turned every inch of Garreg Mach into a celebration and had strongarmed every single former student and staff member into the finest of clothes. Dorothea's Opera Company was performing a few beautiful numbers and local musicians had been performing otherwise, keeping a steady flow of music.

The main hall of the monastery looks reminiscent of the fateful ball in the Ethereal Moon of five years ago. It is a truly beautiful sight to behold. Former students and friends twirl on the dancefloor and laughter and conversation fill every inch of the room. Byleth feels warm all over, despite Rhea's proposition weighing heavily on her mind.

"Professor!" Hilda exclaims.

Byleth turns and sees the Goneril noble. Hilda is wearing a beautiful red dress that clashes just enough to be eye-catching with her bright hair. Hilda sweeps forward and grabs Byleth by the arms, leaning in and kissing each of her cheeks in greeting.

"You look incredible!" Hilda compliments. "I knew that would be a perfect dress for you."

Byleth plucks at the silky fabric. It is much, much fancier than any robe or dress she had worn before, but the dark fabric glimmers with silver inlay every time she moves, making it look like ripples of silver are holding the dress together. Byleth laughs and smiles warmly back at Hilda.

"This whole thing is incredible, Hilda. I think Dimitri may have to hire you as his Royal Party Planner once everything settles down."

Hilda laughs and winks. "Well, anything to build up my resume, right?" She clears her throat. "Anyways, I have actually come with a message. Claude wanted to speak to you, but he said he hadn't been able to locate you and I said he just hadn't been trying hard enough."

"Claude?" Byleth says, surprised.

"He said you'll know where he is waiting. No idea what he wants to see you for though. Oh, there's Marianne and Lorenz! Professor, you must excuse me!"

With that, Hilda is gone, darting off into the crowd again and Byleth knows exactly where Claude will be waiting.

* * *

"You always did know how to keep a guy waiting," he says as she reaches the top of the stairway.

Byleth raises an eyebrow. "I could have not come," she points out.

Claude shrugs. "Hilda's persistent. She would have made you come, even if you hadn't known where I would be."

Byleth crosses the goddess tower to stand next to him on the balcony. The monastery looks beautiful below them, all lit up and lively. She smiles and leans forward, taking in every inch of it. After a moment, she looks back at Claude to find him watching her with a soft smile on his face.

"You're staring," she points out.

"I've got something worth staring at. You look beautiful, Byleth."

Byleth feels her cheeks warm and she instinctively fiddles with a lock of hair by her ear. "Thank you."

Claude watches her for another moment like he's trying to memorize the moment. The light from below casts odd shadows on his eyes, but the green of them is dancing and absolutely mesmerizing.

Byleth finally breaks their eye contact and looks out over the monastery. "I know I have usually been the one to offer you advice, but I was hoping you might advise me on something," she begins quietly.

"Anything."

"Rhea asked me to become the archbishop when she steps down."

Claude is silent for a moment as he processes. Then: "You should."

Byleth turns to him, her brow furrowing. "How can you be so sure? You don't even really believe in the goddess."

Claude shrugs. "I may not, but there are thousands of people in Fódlan who do and they need a leader to look up to." His grin widens into something more playful. "Besides, then I've still almost got my wish in having you lead the people, haven't I?"

Byleth smiles despite herself. "You really think that it is worth it?"

"For all the good you could do for people? You can change the church into something better. Embrace differences, remove the power from Crests, and tell the right stories. You and Dimitri, you'll have the opportunity to bring this land together and to prevent anything like what we went through from happening again."

Byleth's mind catches on the wording of his statement. "Me and Dimitri?" She faces him and touches his arm. "Claude, where are you in this situation?"

He inhales. "Ah, and here I was hoping to pull a fast one on you."

"Claude," she says, her tone firm.

Claude angles his body so that they are face-to-face completely. "Byleth, I love you," he says and there is no lie in his voice. "I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone. When I first saw you, I wanted to use your power to my advantage. I wanted to use you to make my dream of a new world come through. But, after all that we've been through, I now know I just wanted to see that world come to be with you."

He pauses and reaches into a pocket on his jacket. "I have something I want to give you." He takes one of her hands and presses something into it.

Byleth uncurls her fingers and looks at what he has given her. It is a gold ring with an emerald set in it on a gold necklace chain. "Claude," Byleth murmurs, her voice catching.

"Before you say anything, I have to explain something else," he admits. "I have put the Fódlan blood in my veins to use as best as I can. I have more plans and dreams I wish to see through that require me to be elsewhere and I know, as much as it pains me, that you can't be elsewhere right now."

Byleth feels dizzy all of a sudden. The ring in her hand and the words he speaks seem to mean completely different things. "Claude," she says firmly. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I love you with everything that I am. But, I'm saying I need to leave and you need to stay."

Byleth closes her eyes and breathes deeply. Her eyes burn with the warmth of tears. "That doesn't make sense."

"Byleth, look at me." She does. Claude cups her face with his hands. His gaze is so soft it nearly hurts. "I need you to stay and I need you to choose Dimitri. I need you two to build the Fódlan we have dreamed of seeing. I have to go home now and I have to make changes there, so this has to be it."

"Can you tell me where 'there' is, at least?"

Claude chuckles and uses his thumb to wipe away a stray tear on her face. "You haven't guessed yet? I thought Nader and the whole bit with Fódlan's Throat had been clear enough."

"Almyra," she says quietly.

Claude doesn't respond and leans forward until their foreheads are pressed together. He closes his eyes and just breathes for a long moment. Byleth raises her own hands to cup his face. She lets the ring he gave her rest against his cheek as neither of them moves.

"Why the ring?" she asks. "If you're leaving and I can't choose you, why did you give me this?"

"Because I am a sentimental fool," he whispers. "And I will always love you and even if we are not together how I might have hoped, I hope you'll keep me close to your heart through everything."

"Put it on me?" she requests quietly. She leans back and pulls her hands from his face. She places the ring and chain in his hand and turns her back to him.

Claude brushes aside her hair and gently drapes the chain around before fastening it. She turns back to face him and places her hands on his collarbone. Claude slides his arms around her waist and he pulls her into a tight hug. Her arms lock around his neck and she presses her face against his warm skin, trying to memorize the feeling of him in her arms.

After a long, lingering moment, Claude shifts and presses a warm, heartfelt kiss to her temple. He hesitates to pull back and whispers to her:

"I love you. With everything that I am."

He pulls back and steps out of her space. Byleth gets one more soft smile and a last glimpse of his troublemaker green-eyed gaze and then he's stepping back into the shadows of the goddess tower and vanishing into the gloom.

Byleth presses a hand over the ring around her neck and closes her eyes. "A new dawn for all of us," she whispers to the empty tower.

* * *

Byleth remains alone at the top of the goddess tower for what feels like an eternity. She stares out over the monastery and ponders Claude's words, his confidence in her to change the world for the better. She thinks about Rhea's request and the options she has in her future. She thinks about Sothis and what the goddess would have made of everything.

She thinks about her father and what he would have thought about the turmoil in her heart.

Her silence is interrupted by heavy, familiar footsteps. Byleth turns and sees Dimitri appear from the shadows. He looks handsome in fancy royal regalia and someone has obviously made an attempt to tame his long hair, pulling it mostly out of his face. He smiles when he sees her and steps towards her.

"Professor, I had been looking for you," he says. "Claude told me you would be here."

Byleth swallows and touches the ring around her neck unconsciously. "I'm sorry I was so hard to find."

Dimitri's gaze lands on the ring and he looks surprised for a moment. "Professor, did someone give you?" he leaves the question almost unfinished in his surprise and Byleth catches a tinge of sadness in his voice.

She smiles sadly and shakes her head. "No, it's a token from a friend, that is all." She drops her hand from her chest and reaches for his hand, pulling him to stand next to her. "Look at the monastery like this. It's so beautiful."

Dimitri doesn't take his eyes off of her face. "Breathtaking," he agrees.

Byleth feels her cheeks warm and she looks away from him shyly. "Did you want to speak with me about anything in particular?"

Dimitri laughs, low and gentle. "You know, I don't know that myself. I suppose I was just seeking your company. You have a way of making me feel more like myself, especially in a room full of people."

Byleth nods. "I know that feeling. I am glad you came to find me. I actually have something I wish to ask you."

"Of course."

"How do you know you are ready to be king of a united Fódlan? How do you know that what you do will be enough?"

Dimitri sighs. "In all honesty, I do not. I can only hope what we have accomplished in ending the war and routing Those Who Slither in the Dark and forging the relationships we have with Alliance and Empire citizens will be enough to start us down the right road. I do hope that the church will continue to stand with me as I move forward."

"Rhea has asked me to become archbishop," Byleth says abruptly.

Dimitri is surprised, but he touches her arm gently. "If you do not wish to accept the position, no one would blame you. You have earned a life of peace and quiet. That said, I would feel honoured if you would serve beside me to help me guide Fódlan to a new, brighter future."

Byleth smiles softly. "A day ago, I would have rejected this offer, but now I feel I have gained some perspective on everything. When I accept, we will have the opportunity to make the best of this situation. We will have the chance to change the narrative and be the guardians of peace I have hoped would arise from this conflict. And," she turns toward Dimitri, raising a hand to his cheek. "We would have time. Together."

"Byleth," Dimitri murmurs. He raises a hand and gently removes hers from his face and instead cradles it between his own hands. "These are the hands of a woman who has saved me countless times. You brought me back from the beast I had become and you helped ensure that this world would have a future to look forward to. We once walked it as a professor and a student and now we shall have the chance to walk it as an archbishop and a king."

He holds her hand with one of his while the other reaches into a pocket on his jacket in a move that startlingly echoes Claude. He pulls out a silver ring set with two small diamonds and a larger sapphire.

"Byleth, you have been my ally through everything. I do not understand everything you have been through and those things that Rhea said, but I know you have been with me through everything. You may not have chosen to lead my house, but I believe you have led us all into this new age, regardless of that. You have been my ally through everything and I have come to find myself quite reliant on you. You are beloved to me and I hope that you might accept this offer to stand by me for a while longer."

Byleth raises her other hand and touches Dimitri's face. "Dimitri, if you doubted for a moment that I don't love you, then you have been mistaken. I have loved you completely and agonizingly through everything." She glances at the ring he holds.

"This was my mother's ring," he says quietly. "My mother, not Patricia. I had hoped you might accept it."

Byleth feels herself smile softly. "My father gave me this," she pauses to remove the beautiful silver ring she wears on her index finger, "and told me that one day he hoped I would give it to someone I loved just as he loved my mother."

Dimitri's eye widens in surprise. "Then," he murmurs softly, trying to process what she is saying.

Byleth plucks the ring from his grip and swaps it with the one she had been wearing. "Dimitri, my love, surely I mustn't need to spell it out for you."

He exhales shakily and leans down to press their foreheads together. "My beloved, I had only hoped. I had been afraid for so long and knowing that you chose Claude and the way that he looks at you, it had made me fear for what connection I share with you."

Byleth exhales shakily. "Dimitri, I will not lie to you. A part of me loves Claude very dearly. But, I cannot forget, nor shall I ever forget, that I loved you first. And I am choosing you."

Dimitri pulls away just enough that she can see adoration and love glimmering in his eye. "And I will choose you until the day I die, my beloved."

Byleth slides his ring onto her finger and then glides her hands up to rest on the sides of his face. "We have earned this peace and I intend to make the best of every moment."

She pulls on him gently and he does not resist as he lowers his mouth to hers and kisses her. He is warm and solid against her as his arms slide around her waist and her arms drop behind his neck. Byleth feels warm from the tips of her fingertips to her toes. Her chest is singing.

_Alive,_ her mind whispers. _Alive and beautiful and mine_.

And it is good.

* * *

_Author's Note: Oh boy. I really don't know what to say. This monster of a fic came out of nowhere and wrote itself. It's 111 pages of writing in total and about 20K more words than I was expecting. Nevertheless, it is now my longest completed fic officially and I don't regret any of it. _

_I wondered what might happen if I just sat down to write about my feelings after I completed the Blue Lions route and I ended up at the point in Ch 2 where I crushed a lot of hearts. Then I played the Golden Deer route and I was devastated when Dimitri died at Gronder Field because I love him and I wanted to save him. Then I wondered what I could do if I merged the routes. _

_I did consider having Rhea go crazy, as in Silver Snow, but I honestly don't think it fit here and I like how it turned out. Either way, this project was a labour of love and was completely written between the 8th and 30th of January. That's one way to start 2020 for writing, I suppose. _

_As always, I'm active on Tumblr (nicolewrites) if you want more opinions, more writing, or simply to tell me that I'm terrible for ending this the way that I did. Anyways, thank you for sticking with me through all of this madness and I hope it resonated with you at least a little. _

_Love you all,  
Nicole_


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